MM OneShots
by Shandy777
Summary: This is where all of my slash stories will be. Each chapter is a new story. Please view, favourite, and alert.
1. Have I Got Your Attention Now?

~ Have I Got Your Attention Now? ~

Punk shook his head and glared at the television that rested against the wall in the Nexus locker room. His disgust grew even more when John Cena started mocking and poking fun at _his_ group. He couldn't stand there a second longer. He had seen quite enough. Growling softly, but menacingly, Punk walked away from the television and decided to go for a walk, needing to get out of the locker room before he did something to that evil electronic device that would give him a lot of grief from the higher ups.

The hallway was a bit cooler, which was a relief to Punk. The air in the locker room was too warm in his opinion, but a lot of that probably had something to do with his blood pressure rising to all new heights after watching the display Cena was giving the huge crowd. The walking cleared a bit of the anger away, allowing Punk to think without wanting to put his fist through something or someone. Revenge was definitely in order. There was no way Punk was going to allow John Cena to get away with what he was doing. Not only that, Punk and his Nexus needed to make a statement. Everyone, every single Superstar in the locker rooms, needed to know that they weren't messing around. They were the real deal, and if people weren't going to take caution over that then Punk were going to have to send the message the only way they all knew how.

Sighing, Punk leaned against the wall and crossed his arms. He started nibbling on his lip ring as he watched some of the backstage crew busy around with their assignments, his mind in another place. From where he was at, he could hear the loud cheers John was receiving, and that was only making Punk's patience diminish even more. '_How am I going to take down John Cena?_?' That was the only thing running through the Straight Edge Superstar's mind. Nothing really seemed to be working right. Sneak attacks weren't doing anything. Verbal threats didn't seem to be, either. Punk knew that John wasn't invincible. There had to be _something_ that could take down that man. Punk just had to be patient and narrow it all down until he got his final answer.

From down the hallway, another door opened and out walked Randy Orton. Punk cocked his head to the side as he watched The Viper getting closer and closer. He wasn't paying attention to Punk. His eyes were straight ahead, mentally preparing himself for his match. Punk looked down and pursed his lips, the wheels turning in his head while Randy walked past him and out of sight. Before too long, a sly smirk crossed his lips.

John Cena had a little relationship with Randy Orton. John Cena was protective of what was his. If the Nexus were to retrieve The Viper, Punk very much doubted that the man would be thinking straight. He would be too worried and too pissed off to think about anything but his lover. Smirking to himself, Punk turned around and headed back into his locker room.

Punk returned to his Nexus, who were very quiet. They saw how angry their leader was getting. Choosing to remain silent and still was the smart thing to do. In doing so, they were out of Punk's line of fire. So when Punk walked back in with a huge smirk on his face, it definitely raised questions for the six Nexus members. No one wanted to be the one to actually bring those questions to the surface, at least five of them didn't. David Otunga, the big mouth of the group, had no problem questioning Punk.

"What's going on, Punk?"

"I'm so glad you asked me that, David." Punk replied back. He clasped his hands together and looked from David to the rest of his Nexus. "We are going to kidnap Randy Orton."

Silence was the only thing Punk got in return. Their leader looked from face to face, his smirk growing even more when he saw how confused they were. Grabbing a chair that was against the wall, Punk sat down in front of David, Husky, Justin, Heath, and their newest member, Mason. He leaned forward, looking over them all before opening his arms out.

"Faith . . . you need to have faith. Have I ever led you astray?" Punk waited until they all shook their heads before continuing. "You see what John Cena is doing to us, right? He's humiliating us. Do you really think the locker room is going to take us seriously when John Cena is making us look like fools? No. They are going to laugh at us along with him, _unless_ we do something about it."

"And getting to Orton will get to Cena?" Husky asked slowly, trying to put two and two together.

"Come on, I know you've all seen the way they are when they are together. There is a whole new atmosphere around them. The way they stare at each other, the way they wrestle. There is more to them than meets the eye."

"So what happens when we grab Orton?" Mason asked. He was willing to do anything Punk told him to. The man was a genius. He knew just what to do to make all the pieces fall into place.

"Then Mason . . . then we will send John a message." Punk smiled evilly. The more he thought about it, the more into it he was getting. It was perfect.

"When are we going to do this?" David asked.

"We're going to do it tonight, David. Here's what's going to happen . . ."

-x- -x- -x- -x- -x-

Finally, the night was over for Randy Orton. Catching a towel that was tossed by one of the crew members, Randy nodded in thanks, wiped some perspiration from his forehead, and made his way to his locker room. It was a long walk, but the coolness of the backstage was a relief for him. He took his time getting back.

John's match was getting ready to start. Randy went into his locker room, took a quick shower, just to cool off and to get the sweat from his body, and then quickly got dressed in jeans and one of his signature T-shirts. After packing his bag, Randy walked out of his locker room and headed over to John's.

Nothing was out of the ordinary. The same thing happened every single week with no conflict. Only this time, something didn't feel right. Randy slowed his pace down and looked behind him. He felt eyes on him. Normally he enjoyed it. He was a good looking man. He enjoyed flaunting himself around from time to time, but these eyes weren't from fans. There was something cold about them that sent chills down Randy's spine. He didn't see anyone, though, which made him worry all the more. Turning around, Randy continued down the hallway, keeping his ears sharp for anything out of the ordinary. Every door closing, each voice that he heard from somewhere sent his heart fluttered. _What the fuck is going on?_ He was almost to John's locker room when CM Punk stepped out from an adjoining hallway.

"Randy, Randy, Randy." Punk tsked, leaning against the wall. He couldn't help but smile when he saw Randy immediately slowing his pace down, looking more and more cautious than he had been minutes before. He was a smart man. He knew what it felt like to inflict pain, but he also knew what it felt like to tread in those dangerous waters. "Where are we off to?"

"Can I help you with something, Punk?" Randy asked, narrowing his eyes. If there was a Punk then there was a Nexus shortly after.

"Actually, you can."

Everything happened fast after that. A huge hand clasped over Randy's mouth, the other arm wrapping around his body, pulling him backwards. He tried to get whoever was holding him off, but Randy was caught off guard and completely unprepared. Mason Ryan kept a tight hold on the squirming Randy, dragging him back down the hallway. A couple times he almost lost control of The Viper, but he was able to regain it back. Punk shushed and motioned them to move faster when things got slow and louder, but after a few minutes, they were able to pull Randy into their locker room.

Mason pushed Randy forward, practically throwing Randy to the ground. Punk and Husky quickly walked in and closed the door behind them. The Straight Edged Superstar smirked down at Randy while Husky and Mason, though appeared mean and ready for action, looked cautious and a little nervous.

"What in the hell are you doing!" Randy demanded, getting to his feet. He looked from Punk to Mason to Husky then let his glare rest on Punk, whose smirk still hadn't disappeared.

"What does it look like?" Punk replied back, tossing Randy's bag into the corner. When his hands were free, he smiled and raised his arms up, as if welcoming him. "We're kidnapping you."

Randy's narrowed his eyes and took a step back, his fists clenching and unclenching. The man was definitely confused. He cocked his head to the side and waited for Punk to continue.

"You're the bait to get to John Cena."

Now it made better sense. Punk and John were at it for a couple weeks now. John wasn't at all concerned about the man, but Punk was definitely getting more annoyed each time they were together, and he was now clearly taking action. His type of action wasn't the smartest way to go. Shaking his head, Randy couldn't help the glint in his eyes that lit up. This was definitely getting amusing.

"And why am I the bait?" Randy asked, relaxing some. "You know how much I can't stand that man."

"I'm not an idiot, Randy. I do have eyes and I've seen the way you two act around each other."

"How do we act, exactly?"

"Don't insult my intelligence, Orton." Punk snapped, crossing his arms. He didn't have the patience to deal with Randy and his mouth. "I wouldn't be surprised if you two were fucking. Now, sit down."

With that, Punk pushed Randy into a chair that was off to the side. When's Randy's butt connected with the chair, Mason and Husky were right there on him. With their wrist tape in hand, they wrapped it around Randy's wrists and the arms of the chair.

"OMG, really, are really going to go through with this?" Randy groaned, slumping down in the chair with a look that was a mixture between a glare and a pout.

"Yes, you crazy snake, I am going through with this. Now you keep your mouth shut so I can think."

"Bitch . . ." Randy mumbled.

Mason sat down on the couch and grabbed the remote. He turned on the television and switched it onto Raw. In the ring, John was in the middle of his match with Sheamus. Everything was going great with him until David Otunga, Justin Gabriel, and Heath Slater jumped into the ring and attacked him. Randy sat up straighter. He tried to keep his face from showing the worry that almost immediately masked it. His hate for CM Punk grew more and more every time he heard John yelp or scream out in pain. That cocky glint that was once in his eyes quickly died, turning into absolute rage.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." Punk smirked down at Randy, loving how right he was about his and John's _secret_. "We'll see if he cares about you as much as you do for him."

-x- -x- -x- -x- -x-

The majourity of the heavy blows were from David Otunga, Justin and Heath weren't hitting as hard. John knew why, of course. They were a part of the little family John and Randy shared. Even though they were family, he still had no idea why Nexus was attacking. Not only that, but only half of them. The group hardly ever separated.

John was caught off guard by them, which was one of the reasons why he wasn't fighting back as much. The other reason was three words that Heath Slater whispered into his ear when they first jumped in the ring. '_Justin will explain_.' So, John continued to take the punishment, waiting for the explanation from the small South African.

David was yelling orders to Heath and Justin. They followed them, but weren't rough, though it looked it from the audience's angle and, shockingly, from David's. That one was never very sharp. When the words finally came from Justin, John immediately sucked in a breath; panic welled up inside of him. The words scared the hell out of him. '_Punk has Randy_.'

-x- -x- -x- -x- -x-

Raw was over. The television was off in the Nexus locker room. No one was talking or making any sound. Justin and Heath were standing against the wall. Both mirrored one another. They wore blank expressions, their arms crossed. David and Husky were sitting down on one of the benches in the room. Mason was the only one that seemed ready for action. He was standing straight with his hands on his hips, watching as their leader paced back and forth, his eyes locked on the floor, his mind somewhere else. Randy was still in the chair, looking pretty bored. He had an annoyed expression on his face while he glared at the tape that held him to the chair. Finally, he sighed impatiently and shook his head.

"So are we just going to sit here and wait for something to happen or what?"

"Be quiet!" David snapped.

"Shut the fuck up, you damn wuss." Randy snapped right back. After glaring at David, Randy turned his attention back to Punk. "Well?"

"What do you think he's doing right now, Randal?" Punk asked. He wasn't looking at Randy or anyone else. His eyes were still on the floor. "John, I mean."

"I think you already know the answer to that question."

It was pretty obvious to everyone what John was doing. Somewhere during the attack, something changed in the man. After a few blows from Justin, John totally snapped and started beating the hell out of everyone in the ring. It was like a fire ignited in the man, bringing a new wave of adrenaline coursing through his veins. Even after all three men were down on the ground, instead of smiling and getting hyped up for the fans all around the arena, John jumped out of the ring, looking angry and completely determined, as he made his way up the ramp and into the backstage area. Ever since that happened, Nexus and especially Punk were on high guard. The locker room became eerily quiet whenever someone would walk by. Even voices stressed them all out. No one moved a single muscle until all was silent once again.

In the beginning, it was quite amusing to Randy. Justin and Heath seemed to brace themselves when there were noises. Mason looked like a statue, not moving or breathing until the noise died down. Husky closed his eyes and waited while David looked like he was about to pee in his pants. At that, Randy had to suppress a laugh. He just couldn't take that man seriously at all. Punk didn't stop pacing. If anything, the pacing was faster and faster. Even the tiniest hint of noise made Punk jump and face the door, just waiting for it to burst open. Since Punk was so panicked and jumpy, the rest of the Nexus faltered, as well. They looked up to Punk, expecting him to have a plan and a solution. Ever since they grabbed Randy, it looked like all the juices were squeezed from Punk. He looked like he was just going along with whatever came to mind.

When Punk didn't say anything else, Randy continued on. "Come on, man, are you really going to go through with this? It's only going to be a matter of time before he finds me."

"Who said anything about him finding you?"

"There are only so many places to hide until you're caught."

Punk took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. He glanced over to Randy, looked back at the floor, and then did a double take. His eyes stayed locked on his hostage. Randy, though tied to the chair, looked absolutely relaxed. His long body was slouched. He had a cocky, amused look on his face, as if he knew everything that Punk was thinking.

What Randy didn't know was that with each second that passed, that look only made Punk's determination that much stronger. John Cena wasn't invincible. He wasn't a god and he wasn't the superman the audience liked to think of him as. He was only a man . . . and every man has a weakness. In John's case, that weakness was Randy.

A grin slowly formed into a full blown smile. Much to Randy's confusion, Punk started to chuckle. Of course, Randy wasn't the only one confused. Justin and Heath looked at each other in question before looking back at their leader. David looked completely clueless as to what was going on. Husky just looked downright nervous. He didn't know if Punk was having a nervous breakdown or what, but whatever Punk was doing, whether he snapped or not, the man didn't want to be in the crossfire. Mason only narrowed his eyes in worry. He, like all the others, had no idea what was happening to their leader.

The smirked stayed on Punk's face as the chuckles died down. Shaking his head, Punk slowly walked over to Randy and placed his hands on Randy's thighs, resting his weight there while he learned forward, getting inches away from Randy's lips, loving the fact that Randy had already moved as far back as he could. Punk didn't do anything at first. He was trying to figure The Viper out, trying to see what he could do to _really_ get John's attention, using the man in his grasp.

Another moment passed.

Tsking, Punk looked down, taking in the sight that only John Cena himself should be seeing. Smirking, Punk slid his hand further up Randy's thigh while the other went up Randy's toned stomach and chest, sliding down his arm, before resting his weight on Randy's forearm. He felt Randy immediately tense as his lips got closer and closer.

"Shut that pretty mouth of yours, Randal, before I find something that will." Punk's message was sent. He could see it in Randy's eyes, loving the cold glare he was getting in return. Randy knew that Punk was serious. His tone said it all. When Randy remained silent, Punk smirked. "Good boy."

Randy was the first to break the eye contact. He hated himself for doing it, but he just couldn't look at the man anymore. Just the thought of Punk made his blood pressure rise to all new heights. He wanted to _hurt_ the man. He couldn't, though. Instead, Randy stared at the floor, waiting for Punk to get out of his face, out of his personal space. When he finally did, Randy closed his eyes and took a deep breath, willing himself to remain as calm as he possible could.

"What do we do now?" David asked.

"You and Husky are going to look for John Cena. Find and watch him. Call if he looks like he's got anything." Punk answered, turning his attention to his Nexus.

David and Husky both looked confused, but they nonetheless nodded their heads and stood up, waiting for further instruction. They didn't have to wait long, however. After Punk addressed David and Husky, he then turned his attention to Heath and Justin, who were standing against the wall.

"You two are going to get the car. Get it as close to the building as you possibly can without drawling too much attention."

"What are we doing?" Heath asked, glancing over at Justin before resting his gaze on Punk.

"What does it look like? Randal was right. There are only so many places to hide in here. Sooner or later, John Cena is going to find us if we stay here. We're moving this little party to the hotel."

David slowly nodded his head, trying to find the logic in Punk's words. It did make some sense. It was after midnight. The only people that were in the building were the cleanup crew, John Cena, Randy, and Punk and the Nexus. When John was determined to find something, he would find it. He wouldn't stop until he did. Staying at the arena made them sitting ducks. If they moved then it would give them more time to come up with a better plan. David and the rest of the Nexus seemed to have gotten to the same conclusion, because people started moving. David and Husky grabbed their phones and quietly went out the door. Justin and Heath were right behind them shortly after.

"What would you like me to do, Punk?" Mason asked. He was the only one left.

"Mason, I would like you to stay here and guard the door for me. Make sure you keep a good look out for Cena or any other signs of trouble." Punk answered.

Mason nodded his head and made his way over to the door. When he was in position, Punk turned his attention away from the man and back to Randy Orton. He sauntered over and placed his hands back on Randy's forearms, leaning in closer to him once more. Like before, Randy wasn't enjoying it. He leaned away as much as he could and turned his head away from Punk.

"You know Cena more than anyone." Punk started. His voice was low and straight to the point. "What is he doing?"

Randy rolled his eyes and shook his head before turning back and looking Punk right in the eye. "Does it honestly look like I have any idea what the man's doing? I mean, really. I've been in this damn room, tied to a fucking chair for almost two hours. I haven't seen Cena since nine o'clock. I have no idea what he's doing or where he's at."

"That may be so, but you do know how he thinks."

"And your point is . . .?"

Punk stared at Randy for a long minute before backing up some. He sighed and shook his head before glancing back over to Mason, whose head was still out the door. Randy could tell that Punk was starting to get annoyed. The leader of Nexus was a patient person most of the times, but not now he wasn't. John Cena was on a manhunt. Things needed to start happening. Punk was going to get an answer out of Randy one way or the other. The time for games was over.

"Randal, don't be a smartass. Just answer the question and everything will be fine." Punk responded, trying to keep his voice as neutral as he possibly could.

"How's this for an answer . . . fuck you."

Punk lost it. He hauled off and slapped the shit out of Randy, loving the yelp of surprise and pain that came from The Viper. Mason almost slammed the door on his head. He immediately turned around to see complete shock on Randy's face and rage on Punk's.

"Watch the door!" Punk snapped at Mason, who immediately obliged. When Mason's attention was back out the door, Punk grabbed Randy's chin and forced the Viper to look at him. "Do you think I'm playing with you? Is that what you think?"

Randy didn't say anything. He just glared hard at Punk, hating him more and more as the seconds went by. He was practically shaking with anger. Who in the hell did Punk think he was putting hands on him, yet alone slapping him. Randy couldn't wait until John found him. John would tear him apart and when Randy got out of the damn chair, he would be assisting in the ass kicking.

"Answer me, Randal, or I fucking swear, me slapping you across the face will be the last of your worries."

"Fuck you."

Those two words knocked the air right out of Punk. It was as though _he_ was the one to get slapped across the face. Those two simple words opened Punk's eyes, letting him see the fine specimen in front of him, completely at his mercy. He could see that deep down, past the anger and the fury, there was a hint of fear in Randy's eyes. Seeing that only brought the sudden lust over the top.

Smirking, Punk let go of Randy's chin and moved closer. When he was right in Randy's face, Randy turned his head away. He immediately tensed and jerked his hands back, as though he was getting ready to push Punk back, only to realize that he couldn't due to being taped down to the chair. When Punk's lips touched Randy's jawline, he chuckled softly, loving the fact that Randy was his to do with what he wanted.

"What are you doing?" Randy asked. His voice wasn't as cocky and confident as it was before. He didn't like Punk anywhere near him and he certainly didn't like having Punk's lips on his skin.

"If you don't be careful, Randy . . . I might just have to fuck _you._"

-x- -x- -x- -x- -x-

Mason did all the he could to ignore the sound of Punk whispering things into Randy's ear. He tried to focus all of his attention on what was going on in the hallways. The only problem with that was that there was _nothing_ going on. There was the occasional sound of footsteps or thumping noise, but that was about it. He was getting uncomfortable because he had no idea what Punk was going to do and he definitely didn't want to be around when the man started to really mess with Randy. He had heard nothing from David or Husky, which was really driving him insane. He didn't give a damn about them, but with everything that was going on, a distraction would definitely get his mind from what was happening inside the room.

After taking a quick glance over his shoulder, Mason went into his pocket and pulled out his cell-phone. The minutes were going by agonizingly slow. The man jumped when he heard Randy snapping at something Punk said. Instead of being angry, though, Punk almost chuckled and continued doing whatever the hell it was he was doing. Shaking his head, Mason sent a text to Justin.

'_**What's going on?'**_

It didn't take long for Justin to send a text back. Mason, once again, looked back behind him to make sure Punk didn't hear his phone vibrating. The last thing he wanted was to piss Punk off or do anything to get the man's attention, especially when he was in that kind of mood.

_**'We're following David and Husky. They are still looking for John.'**_

That was something else that was driving Mason crazy. Where in the hell was John Cena? They all knew that John was going to be looking for Randy. They knew how John acted around the Viper. They loved each other. Why John hadn't found Randy yet was something that was on everyone's mind.

_**'Where do you think he's at?'**_

_**'I have no clue. He needs to hurry the hell up, though. We can't stall this much longer.'**_

Mason sighed and nodded his head. He glanced up and looked up and down the hallway. There was no one around, which was exactly what Mason didn't want. With no one around, there was nothing that could muffle out the whispers from Punk in Randy's ear and the annoyed groans coming from their hostage. Listening only made him feel sick and dirty. Punk seriously had a crazy sense of humour.

-x- -x- -x- -x- -x-

"For the love of God, get your damn hands off of me, Punk!" Randy exclaimed, glaring hard at the man beside him. The feel of Punk's hands on him made him feel violated. Every touch sent his heart racing.

"Come on, Randy, we both know you're enjoying it." Punk murmured, his lips pressing against Randy's neck, loving the way he could practically feel Randy's pulse quickening. That one action went straight to Phil's cock. He loved the way Randy kept squirming whenever his fingers glided over the Viper's soft skin. He loved what he was doing. Kidnapping Randy to get to John was genius. Not only would he get to John, but he could have some fun with the Viper, which was becoming more and more fun. The constant tugging of his restraints and the way Randy groaned and turned his head away any chance he got only amused Punk all the more. Randy didn't know it, but if he stopped trying to fight him then Punk would have probably gotten bored with him. He was very glad that he didn't know.

Turning his attention away from Randy for the moment, Punk glanced over to Mason, who was still stationed at the door. He hadn't heard a sound from him, which meant that John Cena was still a no-show. Their bags were packed and everything was ready to go. All they were waiting for was Justin and Heath to get back to the door. Why they were taking so long was a mystery to Punk, but as he spent more time dwelling on it, a possible answer came to mind. Punk turned his attention back over to Mason.

"Ryan." Punk called. When the large man turned around and looked attentive, Punk continued. "Has Justin or Heath called or texted yet?"

"No, sir, they haven't."

Punk growled and slowly started to pace back and forth. He knew that there was a huge chance that John Cena had gotten to his smaller Nexus members. That didn't sit well with him. If anything, that only made him angrier. Shaking his head in frustration, Punk turned back over to Randy, who was pulling and tugging at the tape that held him to the chair.

Punk walked over to him and slammed his hands down onto Randy's forearms, making the Viper jump before looking up and glaring at Punk. Learning forward, the Straight-Edge Superstar asked, "What is Cena planning?"

"Are we really going to have this conversation again?" Randy shook his head angrily. "I have no fucking idea where Cena is at. I have no fucking idea what he is doing. Do I have to spell that out to you or what? I don't know."

Growling, Punk pushed himself away from Randy and started to pace again. His moods were switching up so much with Randy suddenly. One second he wanted to kick the man's ass, the next he wanted to fuck him right through the chair he was taped to. The more that idea started to develop, the more entertained he got. Just like that he was back to checking Randy out. Smirking, his eyes raked over the man's body. His shirt was tighter than usual, which brought out his hard muscles beautifully. His long body was stretched out on full display for Punk.

"Stop staring at me like that." Randy said, pulling Punk from his dirty thoughts. "I'm not a piece of meat, you sick fuck."

"Oh . . . yes, you are." Punk grinned and put his hands back on Randy's forearms, getting in Randy's personal space again. He loved how the man would always turn his head away, not trusting what Punk might do to him. "You have a very big piece of meat that I wouldn't mind sucking off . . ."

Leaning down, Punk started to roughly kiss Randy's neck. By the time he got up to Randy's earlobe, he took it in his mouth and bit down on it, getting a yelp out of his hostage. He chuckled as he felt himself getting harder. The fun he would have with the Viper . . .

Before anything else could happen, the door opened and in walked Mason, Justin, and Heath. The two smaller men looked relieved to say the least. When they caught Randy's narrowed eyes, they quickly turned away and looked at their leader who was looking at them expectantly.

"Well?"

"The car has been moved and is sitting in front of the exit."

"What took you so long?"

"Cena was in the garage." Heath answered, ignore Randy who perked up. "We had to wait until he was finished looking around."

"Is he gone now?"

"Yes, he is." Justin nodded.

"Good. Now, let's get . . ." Punk started, but stopped when his phone started to ring. Furrowing his brow, Punk pulled his phone out and saw two messages. When he opened the first one, his mouth dropped. A picture of David lying on the floor sent Punk's heart racing. He knew what the second picture was going to be of. He was right, too. When he opened the second one, like David, Husky was on the ground, hunched slightly over the wall. Both men looked completely out of it, which meant one thing. "Okay, we need to get the hell out of here right now."

Before anyone could even move, the door burst open and there stood John Cena, who looked like he was ready to kill someone. His face was contorted with anger and complete hatred. He slowly walked into the room, his eyes locked on CM Punk, who was slowly backing up. Punk had seen Cena anger before, but the look in his eyes was something that he hadn't seen before. After an intense minute, John took his eyes off of Punk and looked over to Justin and Heath, who were quietly standing against the wall.

"You can go."

Justin nodded and took Heath's hand. "Call us later to let us know what happened."

When John nodded his head, Punk's mouth dropped. He looked from the smaller Nexus members to John then back to Justin and Heath. At first he was confused. He had no idea what they were talking about. But upon further examination, Punk realized that Justin and Heath were guilty.

"Hold on a damn minute! What in the hell are you talking about?" Punk's voice rose as he addressed the two men.

"I think you already know." Justin answered.

Heath nodded his head. "John and Randy have been very close friends of ours for a while now."

"You told him where we were!"

"We told him where you were holding Randy, yes." Heath said. He grabbed the Nexus armband that was where it should be and pulled it off. He tossed it on the floor.

Justin repeated the same action and smirked slightly at Punk's confused, outraged face. "We quit. Nexus went downhill the second you kicked Wade out."

They two men glared at Punk before they turned around and left the room. The only one left was Mason, who was looking rather guilty, himself. His head was lowered and his eyes were locked on the ground, but he could still feel the intensity of John's powerful gaze. Fighting back his fear, Mason slowly looked up, meeting Cena's eyes.

"I'm sorry." Mason said. He needed to at least say that before John kicked his ass. Only that never came.

"You're lucky you're with Dwayne now." John said, nodding towards the door. "Go."

Mason didn't waste any time. Without even a glance to Punk, Mason quickly walked past John and right out the door, following after Justin and Heath. Kicking the door closed, John finally looked over to Randy, who was staring at him. In that second, John's worry finally dissolved. The second Justin told him in the ring that Punk had had Randy all John could think about was what could be happening to him. Of course, he knew that Punk wouldn't actually _hurt_ him; it still didn't make the worry any better. Knowing that the love of his life was somewhere against his will just didn't sit well with him at all.

"Untie him." John said, looking over at Punk who looked as though he wished the floor was open up and swallow him.

Punk blinked when he realized that John was talking to him. In that second, the anger washed over him again. He took a step forward and glared hard at John. "Who in the hell do you think you are? You are not calling the shots here. I am."

"Punk, you have five seconds to untie him or I'm going to put you right through a wall!" John snapped, taking a threatening step forward. Punk and John were right in each other's faces now, both glaring at each other, hatred in their eyes.

"Don't worry about it, John." Randy said, standing up from the chair. He had been working on the tape ever since he got in that chair. He had jerked and pulled till it finally gave way. After tossing the tape that was wrapped around his wrists to the floor, Randy walked over to Punk, knocked him away from John, and punched the hell out of him. "Payback is going to be a bitch, asshole."

Punk didn't say a word. He only groaned angrily, knowing that he was done for. He was outnumbered by two angry men, he already lost three Nexus members he thought were on his side, and the other two were unconscious somewhere in the hallways of the arena. Running wasn't even an option. There was no way John and Randy were going to let him get anywhere near the door. Instead, Punk put a hand over the bruise that was already forming and glared at the ground.

Randy turned away from Punk and looked at John who was looking at him. Randy could tell how worried John had been. He could see the stress lines on his forehead and the tired look in his eyes. Smiling, Randy brushed his fingertips down the side of John's face, his other hand taking John's.

"You came for me."

John smiled and squeezed Randy's hand. "I'll always come for you."

Randy leaned forward and pressed his lips gently against John's. The kiss was full of relief and love. Being in John's arms made him feel safer than Randy could ever think possible. Randy knew that John would come for him, but actually hearing it and it being proven . . . it made Randy feel like his heart was going to burst. The love he had for John was impeccable. Words couldn't describe how much he loved John Cena.

John seemed to be feeling the same way. He wrapped his arms around Randy's lower back, pulling him even closer. He was so happy that Justin and Heath texted him and told him where Randy was at. In his panic, the thought of them being anywhere obvious didn't even cross his mind. John just immediately assumed at they had taken Randy somewhere else in the arena that he had no idea about. But that's what he got for assuming.

The kiss ended when Punk groaned in disgust. They looked down at the man who was glaring up at him. John wanted nothing more than to kick his ass until he got tired, but when he glanced over at Randy, he could tell that Randy was thinking something totally different. He had seen that look before many times. John knew that Randy was thinking something that only happened with their closest boys. Cocking his head to the side, John looked back at Punk who looking like he was getting ready to murder someone.

"What's wrong, Punk? Did you get caught in your own game?"

"Fuck you!"

Randy chuckled and shook his head. He was hoping Punk would say that. Crouching down, Randy leaned forward, making sure to get in Punk's personal space. His voice was low. "Careful, Punk, I might just have to fuck _you_." Punk narrowed his eyes and looked away, finding a place on the wall and staring at it. "I thought that was what you wanted to do to me? When you were in control you couldn't keep your hands off of me."

"Hang on, what?" John butted in, taking a step forward. "He was doing what to you?"

"I wasn't doing a damn thing to him." Punk said quickly, narrowing his eyes even more to Randy. He hoped his expression would get the message sent out, but when he saw Randy's eyes sparkling with mischief, Punk knew that he was done for.

"You were practically raping me with your hands, Punk. That doesn't qualify as nothing."

That was all it took. John grabbed the collar of Punk's shirt and pulled him up, slamming his against the wall with all of his might. Punk's yelp of pain did nothing to him. If anything, John wanted to put the man through even more pain so he could hear him scream instead of yelp. He got in Punk's face, his eyes boring right into his victim.

"If you ever . . . EVER . . . put your hands on him again, I am going to hurt you. Do you understand me? I will HURT you." When Punk didn't say anything, John's patience lessened even more. He pulled Punk away from the wall then slammed him back against it, getting the scream he wanted. "I said do you understand me!"

"Yes! Fuck! I got it!"

"I think he wants us to fuck him, John. He can't stop saying the word."

John looked over to Randy and saw the glint in his eyes. Looking back at Punk, finally seeing the fear in his eyes, John couldn't help but let his imagination get ahead of him. He could picture Randy slamming into Punk who would be pressed against the wall, stuck. He could hear Punk scream out in pain and in pleasure, and he could clearly see the lust in Randy's eyes, darkening the beautiful stormy blue till they were almost navy. It was an incredibly sight.

"Whoa, hell no, that is not happening!" Punk exclaimed, looking from John to Randy with a fearful expression. Those two looked like they would fuck him through the wall. "I refuse!"

"Oh, really, you're going to stop us?" John asked, raising an eyebrow. Just the thought of Punk's weak attempt to escape made him chuckle. "Yeah, I don't think you're going anywhere."

"I'll scream."

Randy couldn't help himself. He got beside of Punk and waited until he was looking back at him. He could see the fear in his eyes. He could tell that he was getting antsy. Watching the man squirm went straight downstairs. He leaned even closer, his lips barely touching Punk's. "Shut that pretty mouth of yours before I find something that will."

The fact that Randy was using his own words against him angered Punk. Who in the hell did he think he was? Still, he could tell that Randy wasn't kidding. If anything, he could tell that Randy actually _wanted_ him to say something, just so he could back up his words. Glaring hard at the man, Punk remained silent, hating the smirk that spread across Randy's face.

"Are you ready to have some fun?" John asked, getting Randy's attention. When his lover nodded his head, John spun Punk around and grabbed his arms, locking them behind his back. He motioned for Randy to get closer to him. "They are in my back pocket, baby."

"What in the hell are you! What do you have in your back pocket!" Punk shrieked, trying to get free of John's grip and to see what Randy would be pulling out of John's back pocket.

"Calm down, Punk. You'll be enjoying yourself in a matter of minutes." Randy said. He kissed John on the neck while he placed a hand on John's hip. With his other hand, he went into John's back pocket, taking his time, trying to feel up his lover for as long as he could before his fingers wrapped around their favourite play tool . . . handcuffs.

"What in the fuck is that supposed to mean!"

"You just said it." Randy answered, slapping the handcuffs on Punk's wrists. He couldn't help the shiver that went through his spine when Punk started to struggle. He loved it. The helpless look on Punk's face, the panic that was building in his eyes, it turned Randy on so much.

John, who looked like he was getting into it, pushed Punk over to the chair that Randy was in previously. The chair almost toppled over with Punk it in, but the Straight-Edged Superstar was able to regain his balance. The act went unnoticed to John and Randy, who immediately turned on each other. Randy slapped the hat off his head and pulled the bands from his long, strong arms and tossed them aside. His lips slammed into John's, shoving his tongue toward, exploring every crevice in John's mouth.

Taking ahold of Randy's hips, John pulled Randy over to him, pressing his hard cock against Randy's. The moan he got from the man only made him harder. The feel of Randy's hands traveling all over his body went too amazing. Their tongues were fighting for dominance, neither wanting to give up the fight. The kiss only broke when Randy pulled John's shirt over his head. The second it hit the ground, John and Randy's lips reconnected. John's hands travelled up Randy's arms until they took hold of the collar of Randy's shirt. How he got that shirt on was a mystery to John, it was so damn tight. He didn't even attempt to take it off him. Instead, John got a firm grip on the shirt then ripped it all the way down. Randy quickly pulled the shirt off and wrapped his arms around his lover. Their breaths were coming out in quick pants now, the kiss getting more intense.

Punk did all that he could to not stare, but that was getting harder and harder now that clothing was being tossed around. He couldn't help but shiver as he watched John back Randy into the wall, his hands firmly on Randy's hips, holding him in place while he pressed his visibly large cock against Randy's. Punk could see their tongues fighting for dominance and he could see where Randy's hands were going. They traveled down John's body, his fingers finally hooking into the hem. The slutty moan that escaped from Randy went straight downstairs. Punk fidgeted in the seat, unable to find a comfortable position. He wanted to join in. That was what was really confusing Punk, but he wouldn't dwell on it. As of right now, all he wanted to do was _do_ something, not think about it.

Randy's skilled fingers started to unbutton and zip down John's jeans. The second Randy pulled the jeans and the underwear down, John's aching cock freed. Randy was on his knees before John, eye to eye with the cock. He smirked and looked up at John before leaning forward and placing a kiss to the head, licking a bit of the precum away. John took Randy's hands and pulled him back up, slamming his lips against his lovers while he started to work on Randy's jeans.

When John and Randy were completely naked, kissing and pressing against each other, Punk wished they would turn their attention to him now. All he wanted was for his cock to be freed from its restraints. His cock was pressing painfully against the denim. John and Randy weren't paying attention to him at all, though. They were so wrapped up in each other that they completely ignored the man cuffed in the chair. That didn't go well with Punk.

"Hey! Fuck me already!"

Both men started chuckling as they broke their kiss. They looked over at Punk who was glaring at them. They could clearly see how hard he was, which only turn the larger men on even more. Being watched while they went at it was something that they loved. Obliging, though, Randy leaned forward and grabbed the hem of Punk's jeans, jerking him from the chair and over to them. While john started to rip Punk's shirt off, which made the man whimper, Randy got to work on Punk's jeans. He unbuttoned them and slowly pulled them down, making sure that his fingers barely brushed against Punk's skin. Goosebumps formed as his fingers trailed lower and lower.

"Get on your knees, bitch." Randy commanded, grabbing Punk's arm and jerking him down.

John got on his knees, too, but in front of Punk, while Randy was in front of the handcuffed man. He grabbed a hold of Punk's hard dick while Randy started to suck on his fingers before pushing three in at the same time, getting a scream from Punk. Punk squeezed his eyes shut and took the assault from Randy's fingers. It's not like he thought they were going to be gently with him. He had pissed both men off and they were taking their revenge on him.

His fingers were going from pain to pleasure and back again. Randy finger fucking him was starting to feel better, but John stroking and squeezing his cock was the only reason why he wasn't screaming and begging Randy to stop. He was very skillful, John was. He knew exactly what to do to get Punk completely turned on. Everything changed, though, when Randy took a different angle, his fingers slamming right into Punk's spot. A slutty scream filled the air as Randy's fingers barely touched the area. Punk started to push back whenever Randy went in trying with everything he had to get more of that feeling. He _needed_ to feel it again. It felt so amazing.

"Bend over." Randy put his hand on the back of Punk's neck and pushed him over.

It was hard for Punk to stay in that position – on his knees, bent over, holding himself up with only his knees – but he was somehow able to pull it off. His heart was racing. He was so ready for Randy to shove his dick inside him, it was killing him. His fingers just weren't enough. He was momentarily distracted, though, when John got straight on his knees, his huge cock right in his face. Punk stared at it before looking up at John who was staring down at him.

"What are you looking at? Suck it, bitch."

Punk gulped and looked back down at the member before him. Taking a deep breath, Punk leaned forward and licked the head of John's dick. The precum that was leaking out was sweet. He opened his mouth and took a few inches into his mouth, trying to keep from gagging. He wasn't anywhere near close enough to getting half of John in his mouth yet, that was how huge John was. After getting use to the feel, Punk took some more into his mouth. His tongue slid alongside the bottom of the shaft while he added some suction. John being incredibly impatient had had enough of the teasing. Punk was going too slowly for more. His mouth was hot and felt amazing around his dick. Putting his hands on Punk's shoulders, John pushed his hips forward, shoving the rest of his cock into Punk's mouth. Punk was nowhere near being ready, so when all of John was in his mouth, his gag reflexes went insane. The panic welled up. Punk moaned and started to struggle against the handcuffs, needing to get John's dick out of his mouth before he suffocated. John wouldn't let him go, though. He kept his grip firmly on Punk's shoulders and stopped moving. Punk finally stopped struggling and closed his eyes, trying to breathe evenly through his nose.

"Suck." John finally said when he thought he had given Punk enough time. When he gently wiggled his hips back and forth, Punk responded and continued to suck.

Moaning, John bit his bottom lip and watched as Randy stroked himself, getting himself ready to fuck Punk. When he felt John's gaze, Randy looked up and smirked at his lover. He could tell that Punk was doing a very good job at pleasuring him. Leaning over Punk, Randy wrapped a hand around the back of John's neck and pulled him over, pressing his lips against John's, while his cock teased the entrance of Punk. Their kiss was soft and purposeful. They smiled into the kiss, loving the feel of their lips against each other. Punk's moan broke them apart. While he was sucking, he was also pressing himself back, sending messages to Randy. He wanted him in right now.

Smirking, Randy aligned himself up properly and bent over again, leaving a trail of kisses from the top of Punk's shoulders, all the way down his spine. "Are you ready?"

Punk moaned loudly around John dick, which sent shivers throughout his entire body. John moaned softly and closed his eyes. Randy didn't give him any time to prepare, though. He wanted to make Punk scream. Wrapping a hand around Punk's body, Randy grabbed Punk's dick and held onto it while he continued to leave a trail of kisses all over Punk's body. He started to stroke. He could tell that Punk was getting close. His body was tensing up. Pinching the head of Punk's dick, Randy pushed himself all of the way in. John's dick muffled the sound of Punk's screams. His wrists strained against the handcuffs. He was in pain. Having that huge girth inside of him was something Punk hadn't experience before. Randy didn't move, though. He remained still so that Punk could get somewhat used to him before he started moving.

"Suck." John spoke up, opening his eyes. Punk had stopped sucking and was focusing on the feel of Randy instead of also taking care of John. He wasn't going to let that slide. Pushing his dick in a bit further, John quickly got Punk's attention. He started to suck and nibble on John's dick again.

When Randy had waited for about a minute, he couldn't take it anymore. He pulled back out and pushed himself right back in. The moan he got from Punk indicated that he was doing a pretty good job so far. Randy started off slow, but his pace soon quickened, his strokes falling into a rhythm with the thrusts. All three men were starting to sweat. The air in the locker room was getting muskier and thicker. They were all getting closer and closer to their breaking points. Punk's mouth around John' dick felt amazing. With time Punk added more suction John could fell the precum oozing out. He was losing all sense of control. Randy, who was watching, was also getting closer and closer. The pleasureful look on John's face was turning him on even more. The beads of sweet were rolling down his neck, slowly making its way along his chest. Changing directions, Randy pulled out and slammed back in, causing another loud moan from Punk. Right away he could tell that he hit Punk's sweet spot. The moan was one indicator. Another was the way Punk tensed, his wrists fighting the cuffs. Smirking, he pulled back out and pressed back in, getting another moan, which sent vibrations throughout his entire body.

John was the first one to cum. He couldn't help not do. The sight of his lover pounding into Punk was enough for him. He released his load into Punk's unready mouth. Punk whimpered as he tried to swallow as much as he could. He wasn't able to get all of it down, though. The rest of the come went down his chin, dripping onto the floor. Punk wasn't able to hold off anymore, either. Tensing up, Punk moaned around John's dick as he came into Randy's hand on onto the floor. His entire body shook from the pleasure. It was something that he had never experienced before, but would gladly go for again. The sight of both men coming was what gave Randy in. His fingers squeezed into Punk's hips, leaving bruises, as he came into the man.

Panting, Randy and John pulled out of each end of Punk. John tossed the keys to the handcuffs to Randy, who unlocked them. Punk collapsed onto the floor the second he was free. His wrists were burning and chaffed from the struggling, but they didn't even catch his attention. His mind was still reeling from the high. He was barely aware of John and Randy getting dressed and ready to leave until John jerked Punk to his feet and slammed him against the wall again.

"Consider this a warning. If you ever even think about getting to me through Randy, I swear to God, _this_ will be like nothing compared to what I will do to you."

With that being said, John wrapped his arm around Randy's waist – which he immediately leaned into – and walked out the door, leaving Punk to sink back to the floor, his legs not strong enough to keep him on his feet.

When the door was closed and John and Randy were halfway down the hallway, Randy stopped John by pressing his lips against John's. This time, the kiss wasn't rough and fast. It was soft and loving, the kind that sent both men tingling. The need for oxygen broke the kiss. Randy leaned his forehead against John's and looked into his eyes, loving what he was seeing.

"I love you, John . . . more than you could possibly imagine."

John smiled and leaned back in, pressing his lips gently against Randy's again. "I love you, too, Randy." John took his hand and started down the hallway again. "Now, let's get home and take a shower before we go to bed."

"I think we both know where that shower is going to lead to." Randy smirked.

"That is why we are perfect together, Randy. We can practically read each other's mind."


	2. Something Only I Can Give  Part 1

_I got the inspiration for this after May 2__nd__'s episode of Raw. You all remember when John Cena came in while the Rock was celebrating, held up his title and said something along the lines of, 'You want something that only I can give'. Well, right after John said that, the wheels in my head went crazy. Dirty thoughts started occurring and well . . . here we are. So, yeah, this is Part 1! ^_^ _

_ Please review and tell me how I did! _

_~ Shandy777_

**Xx Oo Xx Oo Xx Oo Xx Oo Xx Oo Xo Oo Xx Oo Xx Oo Xx Oo Xx Oo **

~ Something Only I Can Give – Part 1 ~

"You know, Cena, I think you're taking this entire thing over the top. Don't you think?"

The Champ John Cena sighed and shook his head, knowing that any chance of peace he once had was instantly lost the second The Viper Randy Orton found him. Looking up, John stared back into the icy, pale eyes of the man who had just spoken. Judging from the way he was leaning casually against the doorframe of his locker room, John could tell right away that Randy was intending to stay for longer than just a few words. Taking it as it was, though, John finally nodded his head slightly in recognition and sat up from the slouched position he once was in.

"Can I help you with something, Orton? Or are you just lost?" John asked in response, cocking his head to the side as he studied The Viper.

"Nope, I'm right where I'm needed to be," Randy replied, walking into the room. He grabbed a steel chair that was leaning against the wall on the far side and made his way over to where John was at, smirking when he saw The Champ tense up some. "Aw, do you think I'm going to beat the shit out of you with the chair?"

"To be quite honest, it wouldn't surprise me if you did."

"Ouch," Randy said as he opened the chair and placed it directly in front of John, maybe about a foot away from the man's feet. He sat backwards on the chair, his tattooed arms resting against the back of the chair while his legs stretched out, giving John the perfect view of Randy's impressive sized dick . . . not that he was looking, of course . . .

"What can I do for you?" John asked, making sure to keep his gaze up.

"I was just wondering if I should come to your room tonight for the angry sex we'll be having or if you'll just find me in the showers or something."

"Hang on, why will we be having some anger sex tonight?"

"I think that's quite obvious, Cena," Randy replied, the glint in his eyes darkening some. "You aren't going to win your match against The Rock tonight. You're going to be pissed off because you just aren't amount enough to beat him, you're going to want to take some steam off, I'm going to be at the _wrong place, wrong time_, and yeah. The rest is history."

"And you automatically assume that I'm going to lose my title in our match?"

"I don't assume. I know."

"You seem quite sure of yourself," John smiled, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He wasn't very far at all from Randy, who immediately smirked at the closer move. "But you also know how I work. I'm not going to give this title up without a fight."

"Yeah, I know," Randy nodded his head, leaning forward, as well, putting them closer and closer together. "But it won't be enough."

"What makes you so sure?"

"Come on, Cena," Randy rolled his eyes. "Does the WWE Universe want to see Superman retain or do they want The Rock, who has finally come _home_, win the WWE Championship? Nobody wants goody-too-shoes to win all the time, even if it is you. It gets boring and old fast."

John's eyes flashed, the easy smile on his face dropping quickly. If there was one thing he hated, it was being called _Superman_. It wasn't his fault the children of the WWE Universe loved him and looked up to him. It wasn't his fault that Creative wanted John to act and do the way he did. Randy knew that, too, but like all things, he enjoyed driving John insane, saying shit that he knew would strike the hardest. This was one of those times. Randy knew he did the damage. He wanted to get out before anything could happen. Right when he stood up to leave, though, John reached out and wrapped his thick fingers around Randy's wrists and jerked him back down, scooting The Viper and the chair he was on that much closer until they were centimeters apart. At first Randy's eyes flashed with uncertainty, but his cool demeanour came back in, the smirk on his face slowly forming. John didn't realize how tightly he was squeezing Randy's wrists, but neither really noticed. Randy was basking in his victory and John was too busy fuming over the fall. Finally, The Champ pushed Randy back some before jerking him right back in place.

"Do you enjoy pissing me off?" John asked in a low voice.

"What would you say if I said I did?" Randy answered his voice equally low. "You have to admit, I am pretty good at it."

"That's not necessarily a good thing," John growled, pulled Randy and the chair that much closer.

"Do you want me to apologize? Do you want me to get on my knees, beg for forgiveness, suck you off, and wait dutifully in the showers for you to come back from your win?"

John didn't say anything to Randy at first. He was too preoccupied with glaring a hole through the man's head, wishing he could wipe the smug look right off his face. Of course, even if John hit him, The Viper would immediately take it as something sexual and respond in the way John didn't want. And when he did that, The Champ would lose all sense of control and just do exactly what Randy wanted him to. The pair weren't exactly _together-together_; they more like . . . fuck buddies. When they were feeling alone or just simply horny, they'd come to each other to help with the problem. John would fix Randy's problem and vice versa. There were no commitments; they could both see other people. They weren't together, but from the way the two seemed to come together without even realizing it started to worry John. He didn't want anyone to know that they were fucking each other. The Superstars and Divas were gossipers. Finding out that John Cena and Randy Orton – enemies, polar opposites – were fucking each other, they would explode, the rumours would start. In other words, there would be no privacy, no place John could hide, and escape from the eyes of the other Superstars and Divas.

"I would like for you to keep your voice down so people won't hear, Orton."

"So what if they hear? It'll give them something good to talk about besides the usual about themselves," Randy shrugged his shoulders, not at all worried.

"Randy, I don't know if you remember this or not, but I said I did _not_ want anyone knowing about our little arrangement."

"Oh, is that what I am to you, an arrangement?" Randy tried to act hurt, but he couldn't help but smirk at the look on John's face. Finally he rolled his eyes. "Relax, Cena, we aren't going to say anything. We'll respect your wishes."

"Thank you that makes . . ." John started, but he slowly trailed off, his mind going over and over the '_we aren't going to say anything'_ part. He narrowed his eyes. "What did you just say?"

"What? I said I'm not going to say anything."

"No. No, you did not just say that. You said _we_ aren't going to say anything. _Relax, Cena, _we_ aren't going to say anything_," John repeated, trying to remain calm and not lose his mind.

". . . Did I say that?" Randy asked, slowly starting to shrink back.

"Yes, Orton, you fucking said that," John glared. He could feel his patience slowly climb higher and higher, his face getting hotter and hotter. How he even believed that he could trust The Viper was beyond him. Randy was devious and sneaky and didn't have a problem with lying to someone right to their face. Apparently this was one of those times.

Randy realized that he was caught. The last thing he wanted, though, was to be there to deal with the consequences that would come of it. With quick speed, Randy jumped out of his chair and was getting ready to make a run for it, but John, still holding onto Randy's wrists, jerked The Viper right back down onto the chair before him. The Champ put his feet in between the legs and scooted to the edge of his seat.

"Yeah, I don't think so," Cena shook his head, the annoyance and frustration in his voice quite clear. "Now, who in the hell did you tell?"

"Come on, does it really matter? They know to keep their mouths shut. They aren't going to say anything. Besides, I'm sure you told someone, too," Randy argued, glaring at John for keeping him there.

"Randy, who in the hell did you tell!"

Kiss my ass, bitch!" And with that being said, Randy kicked John hard in the shin before jerking out of his grasp and stormed out of the locker room.

After a lot of cursing, John knocked the steel chair out of the way, which bounced off the wall and landed on the ground with a loud crack, and stormed out of the locker room. There was no way he was going to just leave the conversation like that. He was going to find Randy and get an answer out of him one way or the other. It didn't take him long to find The Viper – after taking a left out of his locker room and a right at the second hallway he passed, the sound of that oh so familiar voice led John right to Randy, who was venting to Cody Rhodes and Ted DiBiase Jr. a little ways down. He stood there a minute, thinking about the best possible way to get rid of Rhodes and DiBiase so he could properly deal with the annoyance that was Randy Orton. Nothing came to mind, though, and John just wasn't in the mood to think about it any longer, which was why he shook his head angrily and stormed over to the little group, his stomps echoing throughout the hallway. Randy's back was turned to John, so it was confusing for him when Cody and Ted suddenly scattered and took off down the hallway. It didn't take him long to figure out what it was that made them freak out and run.

The second John got to Randy – and the second Randy turned and saw John – The Champ grabbed Randy by the arm and slammed him – pretty hard – against the wall. His fist slammed into the wall beside Randy's head, his hand coming to rest of Orton's hip, which he made sure to squeeze at painfully. Only when he saw Randy wince and squirm a little did to his anger die down some. It took violence to get through to The Viper. Most of the time, John didn't really mind that. Upon squeezing Randy's hip, it did take a few seconds for Orton to know that John wasn't messing around. Falling still and scowling deeply, Randy glared at Cena.

"You told those jackasses? Cody Rhodes and Ted DiBiase, you told _them_?"

"They aren't jackasses, you fucking prick! They know to keep their mouths shut."

"Please tell me you're joking. Randy, those two are the ones who start the fucking gossip to begin with! Do you honestly expect them . . ." John trailed off and took a small step back when he noticed a few of the stage crew walking down the hallway. He took those few seconds to take a deep breath and attempt to lower his blood pressure. God, Randy knew just what to do to make him want to rip what hair he had on his head straight out. When the stage screw finally was out of sight, John turned back to Randy. "Do you honestly expect them to keep their mouths shut after you told them something as big as this?"

"If I didn't then I wouldn't have told them," Randy growled, his steel-blue eyes flashing with rage. Cena pissed him off to no end. Who in the hell did he think he was getting in his face over this? Ted and Cody were his best friends. He trusted them and they trusted him. The Viper asked them not to say anything and he had all the confidence in the world that it would remain that way. "Do you mind getting your hands off of me now?"

"No. I'm not finished talking yet," John growled right back, taking a step closer. "You know, I don't ask much of you, but all I ask is that you respect my fucking wishes and you can't even do that. I specifically asked you to keep this arrangement quiet. Did you do that? Of course not, you just _have_ to brag about it to your little puppies. And when the entire roster knows about it . . ."

"What? You're precious ego will be in jeopardy? Superman's fucking Lex Luther? Do me a favour, _John_, and get over yourself."

Randy's words were like venom. The anger and the hate that were dripping almost made John flinch and take a step back . . . but then he thought about his reputation that would soon be destroyed and the anger was back yet again. He took another step closer, his jaw clenched tightly while his hands curled into tight fists.

"Why do I even waste my time with you?" John's asked his voice low and full of rage. He was practically shaking with fury. "You're a pain in my ass and I'm starting to think you're not even worth the fucking."

Shockingly, none of that seemed to offend or upset The Viper in the least. He stood up straighter, and leaned into John's hand, which was still resting on his hip. His lips curled into a smirk, his pale eyes sparkling with something duplicitous. John didn't trust that look at all. His eyes immediately narrowed, his stance growing wary, just waiting for Orton to do something.

"That's not going to happen, though," Randy purred. "You want to know why?"

"Why?"

"You can't resist me. You try, I can see that, but it's not enough. I'm not blind. When we aren't together, I can feel your eyes on me. You watch me from afar, hating the fact that I draw attention from every man and woman on the face of the planet. You're jealous, because I'm giving them the time of day while I do my best to ignore you," Randy smirked then, raising a hand, and running it down John's chest, loving the shiver he got in response, even though John was still glaring. "You've threatened to leave me before, and it worked for a few days, too. You find someone else to scratch your itch, but it's just not the same, is it? They don't fill you like I do. They don't make you scream out in pain and in pleasure like I do," Randy tucked his finger in the hoops of John's jeans and jerked him closer, his growing tent pressing against Randy's already hard dick. He leaned closer, getting in the Cena's face, their lips only centimeters from each other. He started to whisper. "Admit it already. There is no one out there that can make you feel the way you do, but _me_."

What could John say to something like that? Not only was Randy dead right on everything, but the act of talking, of actually _speaking_ and responding to the man was just impossible. So many things were going through The Champ it was ridiculous to determine which he was feeling the most. Cena was still angry, that much was clear. Randy opened his mouth and told Rhodes and DiBiase about their arrangement behind his back after he specifically told him that he wanted no one to know. At the same time, he was so incredibly turned on. The way The Viper was staring at him, his eyes going right through John. Only those eyes could do that and it drove Cena crazy knowing that those eyes belonged to Randy. He couldn't help it, though. Randy Orton oozed sex. His body looked as though it were carved out of a Greek god. His eyes were a beautiful shade of blue, so pale and icy, yet so mystifying. The tattoos running up and down his long, muscular arms gave him a darker appearance, a badass vibe. His skin was bronze and tight against all of his muscles, which looked quite delectable to John. He couldn't get enough of the man, but at the same time, he couldn't stand him.

Luckily, John didn't have to respond; the two broke eye contact when they heard footsteps approaching. Normally, they wouldn't have really bothered to care who was coming, because they figured it was a Superstar or Diva or probably another stage hand that was busy getting everything ready for the night, but this time, it was someone neither really expected. The second The Viper's eyes landed on the approaching man, his entire body tensed, his eyes narrowed into slits, and his hands curled into tight fists, whereas John was the exact opposite. He stepped away from the wall – and Randy – and smirked, his eyes twinkling beautifully whenever the fluorescent light hit them.

"Dwayne, man, how're you doing?" John greeted, taking The Rock's offering hand, clasping it tightly in a friendly handshake.

"I am doing well, John, how about you?" Dwayne smiled that huge smile of his as he crossed his arms.

John hesitated a moment before answering that, his eyes veering over to the seething Viper before landing back at The Rock. Finally he chuckled. "Things could be better."

Dwayne seemed to have gotten John's hesitation, because he started laughing when he saw the look on Orton's face. The smile on his face seemed to intensify to the point where Cena was sure his teeth were going to pop right out of his mouth. The larger man uncrossed his arms and took a step closer to Randy, his hands resting in the pockets of his designer jeans.

"Hey, RKO," Dwayne greeted, his voice full of humour and tease. He waited a few seconds for Randy to say something, but when all he got in response was a _very_ heated glare, he laughed again. "What, you're still pissed about earlier?"

"What happened earlier?" John asked, looking from Dwayne to Randy and back again. His interest peeked even more when it looked like Randy's cheeks seemed to darken just a bit. _Was The Viper blushing?_

"Nothing and I mean _nothing_ . . ." Inserting death glare here. ". . . Happened between me and this asshole earlier tonight, right bitch?" Randy said, hoping his intimidating glare would send the message to the veteran. Clearly it didn't, because Orton could see the smile widening even more of the man's face.

"I asked Randy if he wanted to have a few drinks with me later on tonight after the show, but he turned me down," Dwayne answered, ignoring the glare and Randy's cryptic warnings.

"Why did you say no?" John asked, truly curious. He cocked his head to the side and stared at Orton who – even though he loved and sometimes craved attention – was actually getting antsy under both of their gazes.

"I don't know if you can see this or not by the glare and the harsh tone, but I don't like Dwayne Johnson, Cena," Randy spat, throwing his evil glare at John now.

"I can be The Rock tonight, if you want," Dwayne chimed.

"I'm not going to be a notch in your belt, bitch, so shut the fuck up and tame the tiger," Randy snapped, hating the fact that he was practically trapped in between the wall and two men who were larger than he was.

"Aw, that's not it at all, Randy," Dwayne laughed and took a step closer, his hand falling on Randy's bicep.

"I'm done. I'm fucking done." Randy jerked out from under The Rock's touch and pushed both Dwayne and John out of his way. He stepped away from them, needing to get some oxygen and to calm himself down before he literally killed Johnson. As much as enjoyed getting hit on by random guys, Superstars, and/or Divas, there was just something about Dwayne that was not appealing at all to Randy. He wanted nothing to do with the man, but no matter how many times he made that notion clear, The Rock just kept coming back, his efforts that much more. He turned to John before he left them both entirely, but only for a quite word. "We'll talk later."

And with that, Randy stormed down the hallway, his hands still clenched into tight fists.

**Xx Oo Xx Oo Xx Oo Xx Oo Xx Oo**

John Cena and The Rock watched as Randy made his way further down the hallway, their eyes locked on the tantalizing sway of his hips as they rocked from side to side. The Viper didn't have to do much to get lusted over. When he was finally out of sight, The Champ and The Rock turned their attention to each other, both smirking, finding the fact that they were both checking out Randy's ass hilarious. Shaking his head, Dwayne leaned against the wall.

"So, how are you doing, John? It's been a long time since we've talked."

"It's been too long," John nodded his head in agreement. He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall on the opposite side. "I've been doing alright, just keeping busy. You know how this company is."

"That I do," The Rock replied, nodding his head, as well. "Are you ready to get your candy ass whooped?" And just like that, the smile was right back on his face.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Rock, but you've been gone for seven years. You're going to get your ass kicked. I'm retaining."

"You seem so sure of yourself, JC."

"I am pretty sure of myself. I'm sure the ring-rust will get to you five minutes into the match."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that," Dwayne replied, pushing himself off the wall and started down the hallway with John following behind him. "I keep myself active, too, you know. Action movies are pretty great that way . . . lots of fight scenes . . ."

"So I might have a challenge," John smiled. "I like challenges, though."

"You're going to have a huge challenge with me. I'm not going to make this match easy for you. I'm 'pissed', remember?"

"You being pissed will work to my advantage," John explained, one hundred percent confident with what he was dishing out. "You won't be thinking; your soul purpose will be to hurt me. I'll be able to get the upper hand over you and win the match, thus retaining the WWE Championship, which I have worked so hard to win."

"How about we make things interesting?" Dwayne suddenly said, stopping right there in the middle of the hallway, facing John. "How about we make a bet?"

"A bet . . . okay, I'm ears."

"If I win then I get the night with Orton."

John nodded his head and allowed Dwayne's proposition to sink in. He wasn't feeling it. Randy was a pain in the ass nine of out ten times, but the thought of giving him up so his old friend could have a go at him just didn't sit well with him. The Viper might piss John off, but he couldn't help but feel _something_ towards the younger man. Giving him up for the night so Dwayne could have his way with him just sounded . . . wrong. Besides, there would be no way Randy would go for something like that. He had no idea why Randy hated The Rock so much, but if he had to spend the night with the man then that might definitely have a lasting effect on _their_ nights together. Nonetheless, The Champ's thoughts slowly moved to what had happened not too long ago – how he discovered that Randy had went behind his back and told Ted DiBiase Jr. and Cody Rhodes about their little arrangement. Orton knew that the chances of those two keeping their mouths shut over something like that would be next to zero. It might not be that night, but sooner or later, Rhodes and DiBiase would most definitely let the secret slip and then the whole locker room would go down on those two. Randy might enjoy the attention, but John certainly wouldn't.

"What are you thinking?" Dwayne asked, watching the younger man as he thought over The Rock's proposal.

"I'm thinking that that idea is very intriguing . . ." John started slowly, trying to get his thoughts in order. He sighed and just thought of the Superstars and Divas' reactions that were sure to come when the two big mouths decided to open their mouths. It was a horrible thought which left an even worse taste in his mouth. "Randy definitely needs to get his ass back in line . . ."

Dwayne cocked his head to the side and stared at The Champ questioningly, wondering what that statement actually meant. Ever since he mentioned his little proposal, Dwayne noticed a change in Cena. There was something going on between him and Orton, but at the moment, he was unable to put the pieces together. John seemed to catch onto that, because he looked up and caught his probing gaze. Sighing, John decided to just let him in on what was happening. After all, it wouldn't be long until the entire company knew that he and Orton were fucking. He might as well. So, as John and Dwayne made their way down the hallway, The Champ explained everything that had happened and what went down earlier that day with Randy. Actually talking about it felt like a relief for John, it felt good to actually get it off his chest and not bottle it all up, only for him to let it out on either an unlucky pillow in his hotel room or on Randy's ass. He hated that Randy was so right about his feelings toward The Viper. Orton pissed him off so much, it was a wonder why John hadn't upped and left him. But the risk of losing the only person who filled him perfectly, of making him scream and beg for more was just too much. Besides – as much as John hated to admit it – he actually felt comfortable with Randy. Normally after some rough sex, John immediately felt awkward, unsure of what to do or how to proceed further. But with Randy, he actually made him feel comfortable. That still didn't dismiss the fact that Randy did the exact opposite of what John wanted – blabbing about their arrangement with the two biggest gossipers the WWE had ever known. And it was with that in mind was John's decision made final.

"I don't care who wins tonight – you or me. Even though I'm fairly certain it's going to be me, I cannot let this opportunity go without going for it, which is why I have a proposition of my own for you," John concluded when they reached his locker room. Both men stood in front of the wooden door, The Champ's hand clutching the metal door handle. "Randy Orton's yours tonight, to do with what you will."

"Are you sure, man?" Dwayne asked, trying to contain his excitement until he was confident John was telling him the truth. "I don't want to overstep our boundaries and start messing with what belongs to you."

"Let's get one thing straight, though. Randy is _mine_. You get him for tonight and only tonight. This is his punishment for going behind my back."

Dwayne nodded his head, his pearly whites flashing in an excited smile. He had been envisioning things he'd want to do to Randy for weeks now and _finally_ he was going to be given the shot to put those visions into reality. He couldn't wait for the night to end; he couldn't wait to get Randy Orton in his hotel room.

"I got it."

"And with that being said, a have one condition before I go give Randy a fake bet," John stated, pushing down on the metal door handle, and opening the door. He stepped back so Dwayne could walk in first.

"Name it and it's yours," Dwayne replied eagerly. John was giving him the chance to play with what belonged to him. If anything, Dwayne felt as though he _owed_ him whatever he wanted for granting him this one thing.

"I want you to film him. I want to sit in my room and watch as you do whatever the hell you want to him. I want to hear every curse he'll more than likely throw at you; I want to hear his begging and his screaming."

Dwayne smiled and nodded his head. The fact that he was going to be taping it all just made heat rush between his legs. "I'll tape whatever the hell you want me to tape. I just hope I get a copy."

John smirked and clasped The Rock's hand in a shaky, sealing the deal. "That all depends on your performance tonight."

"And I'll be making it one hell of a performance."

"Have a seat, Dwayne," John said, motioning to the black, leather couch that lined against the wall. "I'm going to feed Randy some bullshit before the match."

With that being said, John gave Dwayne a smirk – one in which he immediately responded to with a laugh – and walked out of his locker room, his heart jumping with excitement. He couldn't wait for the night to be over. At first he was iffy about the entire ordeal, but the more he thought about it, the more he explained to Dwayne, and especially after hearing what Dwayne thought of the matter, John was certain that he was making the right decision. Besides, watching as Randy was forced to submit to someone else that wasn't him sounded particularly delicious to The Champ as he made his way closer and closer to his secret lover.

**Xx Oo Xx Oo Xx Oo Xx Oo Xx Oo**

The Viper was pacing back and forth in his locker room when the knock on the door sounded, bringing him from his thoughts. Narrowing his eyes at the door, Randy slowly made his way over, gripping the handle before pulling it open slightly.

"What the fuck do you want?"

"Knock it off and move out of the way," John rolled his eyes and easily pushed Randy and the door out of his way. He strolled into the room, walking till he was in the very center, before turning around, facing the coiled up Viper. John looked him up and down, taking note that he was still very much wiled up after what had happened. "You and I should continue our conversation."

"Yeah, we should."

"Why did you tell Ted DiBiase Jr. and Cody Rhodes about us sleeping together?" John asked right out. He was tired of the buildup. He just wanted a straight up answer.

"I thought we were an arrangement?" Randy asked sarcastically. When John remained silent, only giving him a blank stare, Randy rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. He closed his locker room door before joining John, standing before him. "I told them because they are my friends."

John sighed and lifted his left hand up, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Look, I respect that they are your best friends – even though I'm not at all enthralled with them," John started. When Randy opened his mouth to retort angrily back at him, John quickly put his hand up, silencing The Viper. "But that doesn't give you the right to go behind my back. I asked you to keep us a secret because I wasn't ready for everyone to know about us yet. I _trusted_ you to keep that secret and you didn't."

"You talk as though they've already said something. John, just because you don't like them doesn't mean they are going to open their mouths and say something. I asked them not to. _I _trust that they'll keep their promise they made to me. Just because you don't like them doesn't mean they are as untrustworthy as you like to think they are."

"That still doesn't justify you going behind my back and telling them," John argued, putting his hands on his hips, his voice getting a tiny bit louder.

"What the fuck do you want me to say, John?" Randy demanded, throwing his arms up in the air in exasperation. "Do you want me to apologize? Do you want me to beg for forgiveness, suck you off, be your bitch for the night, and do your dry cleaning?" Randy shook his head at The Champ.

"No. You know what I want?" John replied, his voice yet again getting a bit louder. "I want you to get back in line. I want you to get off your high horse and realize your place, because you are out of control, Randy, and I've had about enough of it." Once again Randy opened his mouth to say something, but once again, John raised his hand, stopping whatever words that were getting ready to fly from Randy's mouth. "And that is why I want to make a bet with you."

"What?" Randy asked after a moment of confusion. He cocked his head to the side and narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"If I win the match and retain my WWE Championship then you belong to The Rock tonight," John said flatly, with no warning whatsoever.

"I'm sorry, what the hell did you just say?" Randy stuttered, unsure of what to think . . . hell, of what to say, really. If John retain tonight then he'd belong to The Rock for the night?

"You heard me."

"I was unaware that I was property to be given away," Randy said, glaring at John angrily. "Who in the hell do you think you are? I don't give a fuck who wins tonight. I'm not going anywhere near that sick fuck!"

"Why, are you scared?" John asked his voice and expression totally neutral. "Are you chicken?"

"No, I'm not a chicken!"

"Then what are you so afraid of?"

"Who said anything about me being afraid? There is nothing scary about that walking pedophile!"

"But you _are_ afraid of all the things he wants to do to you tonight, aren't you?"

Randy narrowed his eyes at that, shifting from foot to foot uncomfortably. _What did The Rock want to do with him?_ That was definitely something Randy didn't want to think about, but with John standing there, giving him this _ultimatum_ The Viper had no choice but to think about it. He did know one thing for sure. There was no way he was going to be The Rock's bitch that night. There was just no way in hell Randy was going to sit back and allow that man to do whatever the hell he wanted to him. No way.

"So what exactly are you saying?" Randy asked finally, tired of going back and forth with the man. There was something in John's eyes that was so unlike what he had been accustomed to seeing. Deep down, Randy didn't know if that look was a good thing or a bad thing. The more he continue to stare, The Viper was siding with the bad. "You're making it sound like I have no way out of this thing – no matter what I have to spend the night with Johnson."

John shrugged his shoulder nonchalantly. "Maybe that's what I'm saying."

"And what if he wins?" Randy asked, his eyes piercing right through John's. His voice was tight, as though he was trying his hardest to control a storm.

"If Dwayne wins then he gets you. Either way, you're screwed."

He felt like he was going to explode. Randy Orton felt like he was about to lose it right then and there, wrap his hands around John's throat and just strangle him right then and there. Who in the hell did he think he was? What gave him the right to say something like that, to _tell_ and try to force Randy into something? Randy could not stand Dwayne Johnson. There was no way in hell he was going to be spending any night in the foreseeable future with the man and there was nothing John was going to do about that to change it. Another part of Randy was sort of . . . nervous? There was just something about the way John was standing, the way he was talking and staring at The Viper that had him on edge. He felt like the man would throw him over his shoulder and hand-deliver him to The Rock if he retained.

Before Randy could think of a good response for what John just said, The Champ beat him to it as he stepped around The Viper, making his way to the door. "I want you to come ringside with me, stand in my corner."

"Fine," Randy grumbled, crossing his arms, staring at the floor, his mind going a million miles in each direction. "I'm _not_ spending the night with him, John. I refuse."

John nodded his head and turned his gaze towards the ground for a moment before looking back up at Randy, his eyes twinkling. "You will." And with that said, John turned around and walked out of Randy's locker room, leaving The Viper alone to think about what he had just said.

He stared at the door for a long time after John left, his mind unable to get past the _'you will'_ that came so ominously from Cena's lips. The glint in his eye, the way he said it, it sounded as though he was dead serious. John Cena was a funny guy. He knew when it was time to play, when it was time to joke around and laugh, but he also knew when it was time for the play to end and for the business to begin. Over the years, Randy had been able to sort out John's moods, the different sides of John that made him, him. It scared him beyond a shadow of a doubt that John was not messing around. He was dead serious. If John retained his title and won the match, Randy was going to be The Rock's bitch for the night. If The Rock won and took John's title from him, he would be his bitch for the night. Either way he was fucked and it was not sitting well with him at all.

**Xx Oo Xx Oo Xx Oo Xx Oo Xx Oo**

The match between John Cena and The Rock was taking longer than anyone – especially Randy – thought. The two Superstars in the ring must have been doing their homework on one another, because the momentum of the match was always changing, hardly ever staying the same way for too long. At the moment, John Cena was the one who had the upper hand and it was killing Randy to just sit and watch it all happen, knowing his fate when the match was over, when Raw went off the air. He was sitting in a leather chair beside the announcer's table, his elbows on his knees, his chin resting on the knuckles of his hands. It had taken all that The Viper had not to jump out of his chair, take off down the ramp, and disappear. It had taken all that he could to not curse The Rock out whenever he had the upper hand, because the man would turn and give that damn smile – one that made Randy's right fist to shake in a sudden need to punch his teeth straight down his throat – and give him that knowing wink. It was unnerving and it made Randy feel disgusting. John was the opposite, though, which was why the announcers were getting so confused. Usually, it was John who was smiles and happy faces. Now, as they watched the hectic match before them, they could tell that there was something else going on and they were getting on the right track whenever they mentioned Randy.

The two Superstars in the ring looked exhausted as the forty-minute-mark hit, but they were still giving it to their opponent all that they could. After all, the WWE Championship was on the line. As the minutes past, Randy couldn't help but wonder if John was _just_ fighting for the Championship. He also couldn't help but wonder if John Cena even _cared_ about him. Of course, he knew he was a pain in the ass. John knew that getting into their fuck buddying relationship. John knew that Randy was a handful. But after _this_ . . . after John outright told Randy that he was going to be spending the night with Dwayne Johnson whether he liked it or not, just shipping him off like he had no choice in the matter, as though he didn't even care . . . it made Randy wonder if John ever really cared about anything they ever did together. Randy had to admit, it kind of hurt. There was nothing he could do about it now, though. The match was coming to a close, which meant Randy had to figure out what the hell to do before he became The Rock's bitch for the night.

And then it happened. The Rock was coming at John, only for John to duck and trip the man, immediately pulling him into an STFU. Randy immediately got to his feet and slowly started to walk around the ring, hoping that John would be too distracted to see him making his escape, but, of course, hoping for that was like hoping for it to snow in the desert. John's eyes immediately shot up when he sensed movement, his eyes locking on Randy.

"Don't move!" John shouted, putting all that he had into his submission move. "I want you to see this!"

Taking a deep breath, and putting on his infamous glare, Randy turned and faced the ring, looking right into The Champ's eyes, hoping that he would see past the anger and actually see how hurt he was. It was kind of ridiculous, trying to accomplish this on national television, but Randy couldn't help it. The fact that The Viper was feeling this way was shocking enough, but actually proclaiming how hurt he was about John's actions was something else altogether. It seemed to work for a few seconds, too. John stared back at Randy and, after a good ten seconds, his sapphire eyes seemed to soften some, his hold lessening despite his close victory. And then The Rock moved, destroying all progress Randy thought he was making. John blinked and went right back to what he was doing. His grip on The Rock tightened again and no sooner did he do that did he start tapping, winning the match and retaining the WWE Championship.

With his heart plummeting and beating faster than he ever thought possible, Randy scowled deeply as he stormed up the ramp, his hands clenched into fists at his side. When he was out of the sight by audience, Randy took off into a run. The only thing on his mind was escape. He would grab his things, speed off to the hotel, get everything together, find a new hotel, and lay low. It would have been smart if John didn't know exactly what he was doing. Randy tended to forget that John knew more about him then he thought he did. John knew how Randy thought, knew how he reacted to things. That was one of the reasons why John didn't take off after Randy when he stormed off. Finding him wouldn't be that difficult, especially when he knew where he'd go first. John stayed in the ring after the bell sounded and celebrated his victory with the WWE Universe.

"God, you're rough, Cena," Dwayne winced as he slowly got to his feet, rubbing the back of his head. He took a few steps closer to John.

"Yeah, sorry about that," John grinned, lowering the Championship. He held his hand out to Dwayne in a sign of good faith. "It was a hell of a match."

"Yes, it was," Dwayne nodded his head and smiled, gripping John's hand, loving the explosion of applauses they got from the fans watching. "Where'd Orton go?" He asked, looking towards the announcer's table.

"He ran."

"Great," Dwayne sighed in disappointment.

"Don't worry about it, man," John smiled. He couldn't help but feel excited about what he was getting ready to do. "You just go to your hotel room and get the camera ready. Make sure it's hooked up to my room. I'll bring Randy to you."

"That I can do," Dwayne smiled then. He took John's hand and raised it high in the air, his ears ringing from the high volume of the cheers of the fans that were responsible for his coming home. "That I can do . . ."

**Xx Oo Xx Oo Xx Oo Xx Oo Xx Oo**

The Viper got his belongs together and was at the hotel in a record time. The laws that he broke to get there were irrelevant. Ignoring the comments thrown at him from other Superstars and Divas who were littering the front lobby, Randy made his way to the elevator, where he then rode up to the seventh floor. When the doors slid open, The Viper jogged his way to his room, pulled the keycard from his back pocket, fumbling to put it into the slot due to his shaky hands, but finally succeeded. He pushed down on the door handle and the door opened. Throwing himself in the room, Orton flung the door closed and locked it up, doing the deadbolt and the chain, ensuing that no one was getting into the room unless they were an expert climber who was able to scale a building. Taking a deep, shaky breath, Randy leaned against the door and closed his eyes, trying to calm his beating heart. The betrayal that he was feeling was strong, the pain and the hurt thanks to John was strong, but now wasn't the time for Randy to think about it. John had made it clear – if he retained then he was giving him up for The Rock for the night. Precious time was ticking away and, if Randy wanted to get the hell out of dodge before John could come retrieve him then he had to move quickly.

Exhaling slowly, trying to gather his self together, Randy pushed himself off the door and made his way over to his suitcase, which was on the other side of the room, by the window. After grabbing and tossing it on the bed, Orton opened it up then went to the drawers, jerking them open and tossing his clothes onto the bed, not stopping until all three drawers were empty. Randy turned around and stuffed each article of clothing into the bag, not at all caring how wrinkled they would get. Right now wasn't the time to think about such a thing. Unless he wanted to become Dewayne's Johnson's bitch for the night, Orton needed to speed up before John found him, and _that_ was something Randy didn't want at all. Zipping his bag closed, The Viper looked around the room and quickly went around, grabbing everything that belonged to him and tossing it into the bag, as well.

After what seemed like hours, but was only mere minutes, Randy was zipping up his bag and swinging it over his shoulder, ready to get the hell out of dodge. He needed a place to stay to just get through the night, to give him just enough time to think of a way out of the mess that John was forcing him into. Just thinking about John made his blood boil. Who in the hell did that man think he was _telling_ him what and who he was going to have sex with? He had no right to tell him something like that. But no matter how much that angered Randy, a part of him knew that John could sure as hell back it up. John was one of the few that were strong enough to hold him down or force him into something he didn't want to do and, even though John was usually a gentleman, he also had a mean side to him that was rarely shown. Something told Randy that, even though this wasn't that mean side, it was payback for what he had done – for telling Ted DiBiase Jr. and Cody Rhodes about their arrangement. Nevertheless, John couldn't do anything if he couldn't find The Viper, which was why he needed to get out of there – fast.

Swinging the door open, Randy turned his head, found the light switch, and flicked off the light, but when he turned back around, his breath caught in his throat, his feet taking control made an involuntary step back. John had caught up with him …


	3. No Secrets Part 1

~ No Secrets ~

"Are you sure you know where you're going?"

The air was cool and crisp. The moon was shining above the trees. The wind blew, stirring the leaves on the ground. Randy Orton started looking around, worriedly. John didn't stop, though. He kept Randy's hand in his, leading him through the shadows of the night.

"Don't worry, Rand. I know exactly where I'm going."

"Really, Cena, really, because it looks like we are going in circles to me." Randy said, raising his voice a little more than he intended.

This stopped John. He turned and faced his lover. The worry in his eyes only made John give a small smile of adoration. Words couldn't come close to describing what and how Randy made him feel.

John reached his free hand up and caressed Randy's cheek. His eyes never left Randy's. "Trust me. I won't get us lost."

Randy sighed and looked around once more. Everywhere he looked, it all seemed the same. He couldn't understand how John knew where he was going, but then again, John never lied to Randy before. If John said he knew where he was going, Randy would believe him. Besides, if they go lost, they'd be lost together.

"Okay, I trust you." Randy nodded, meeting John's gaze.

John smiled and winked. Squeezing Randy's hand, John continued walking, making sure to keep his pace slow. Randy wasn't an outdoorsy person. Anything to do with nature, Randy was far, far away. John kept his patience, but in all honesty, nothing Randy did could ever make him impatient. Nothing Randy did could make John feel negatively about him.

The night went on. The wind continued to blow, making the woods look even more menacing. The way the branches and leaves beat against each other caused a shiver to run down Randy's spine.

John kept his eyes ahead of him. Inside, a thousand things were churning. So many emotions were swimming around; it was hard to decide which he was feeling the most. So many relationships in the past never worked out. Either he didn't feel the right connection or they got out before anything could happen. Either way, none of those relationships prepared him for what he was in now. Being with Randy was like nothing John had ever experienced. Randy was a hard person to get involved with. He was difficult, stubborn, and incredibly cocky and sarcastic. Inside, though, he was like no other. Randy was more than cocky or stubborn. He was perfect. He was sweet and kind. He could make John smile with just one word, one look. Everything he did was with a purpose. With Randy, John was able to drop his defenses and just be himself. That was something he never did before. He didn't have to act around Randy.

That was one of the reasons why John decided to take him to his secret spot. It scared him, it worried him to no end, but it was something he needed to do. His feelings ran so deep when it came to Randy. He didn't want to hold anything back. He didn't want to have anything between them. No secrets.

"We're here." John said, bringing Randy back to reality.

"Where's here . . ." Randy looked around until his eyes lay on the cabin in front of them, a good distance away.

"Come on." John said, walking forward, only to be stopped by Randy. "What?"

"Um, that looks like it's about to fall to the ground, John. If you wanted to just have sex or something then we didn't have to go to the woods to do it. Besides, crazy hillbilly murderers could be in that thing."

"That cabin isn't going to be falling to the ground anytime soon. And trust me; I'd know if there was anyone around." John said, gently pulling Randy forward. "Furthermore, that's not why I brought you here."

"Why did you bring me here then?"

John sighed. He could feel Randy's eyes on him. He couldn't meet the gaze, though. "I'll tell you when we get inside."

Randy didn't push John for an explanation. He could see that there was something important on his mind. His questions would be answered when they got inside, though.

To Randy's surprise, the cabin didn't look at all rundown as it did on the outside. Inside was breathtaking. The floors were old, but in wonderful condition. There were only three windows. They were all hidden by black, thick curtains. On one side of the room was a tiny kitchen. A mini fridge sat on one of the counters. A microwave was right beside it. There was a dark red couch against the far wall. The rug underneath was black, as well as the pillows. There was a fireplace full of chopped wood. It was ready for use.

". . . Wow . . ." That was all Randy could get out. His eyes scanned the room, taking it all in.

"Do you like?" John asked, leaning against the wall. He watched as Randy slowly walked around the room, touching and feeling the contents.

"What is this place?"

"It's, uh . . . well, I guess it's my safe haven." John said, trying to find the right words.

"Why do you need a safe haven for?" Randy asked, looking over at John.

"That's what I want to talk to you about. It's what I need to talk to you about, really."

"John, you're starting to worry me."

"Open the fridge."

"I'm sorry?" Randy asked, giving John a weird look. He wasn't making any sense at all.

"Just open it, please." John's voice was low this time.

Randy didn't move for a moment. He was still trying to figure out what was going on. John's expression was blank, but his eyes were telling a different story. For the life of him, though, Randy couldn't figure out what they were sharing. Giving up, Randy walked over to the fridge. He took a deep breath and opened it. The discovery startled and confused Randy all the more. Packs were piled to the very top. What was inside was unclear, but a bad feeling started to surface.

"What is this?" Randy asked, pulling a pack out.

"It's blood."

". . . Blood . . .?" Randy repeated, looking from John to the pack in his hand. It was only after he asked did he truly see it. And that was when Randy immediately dropped it and took several steps away from it. "John, what the hell is going on? Why is there blood in your fridge?"

"I sort of need it . . ."

"Why do you need blood?"

John didn't say anything. He took a deep breath and tried to prepare for, what he knew, was the end. He could see the scared, confused look in Randy's eyes. He saw the reaction when he dropped the blood pack. People feared what they didn't understand or what they couldn't explain. Randy wasn't going to be able to understand John. Not after the truth came.

"John?"

"There's something about me you don't know." John said, looking directly at Randy. "I'm not what I appear to be."

"What are you talking about?" Randy asked, shaking his head.

"I need that blood. It keeps me alive."

The confusion in Randy's eyes intensified. He had no idea what John was talking about. What scared Randy the most, though, was how calm he was about it. John didn't move. His voice was conversational, like what he was talking about was normal.

"I . . . I don't understand. Are you sick? Do you need transfusions or something?"

"No, I don't need transfusions or anything like that."

Randy raised an eyebrow and shrugged his shoulders. "John, you're not making any sense here. What's going on? What do you need to tell me?"

John sighed and braced himself. "What I'm about to tell you is going to make you want to run through that door. I know that I'm risking everything, but it's something I feel I need to do. I don't want to lie or hide anything from you anymore. You're too important to me. What we have, and what I know we can build, is too important."

Randy didn't say anything. What John was saying wasn't making any sense to him. The way he was talking, though, was scaring him all the more. He waited for John to continue.

"You won't believe me, either." John chuckled without humour.

"Just tell me, John."

"Alright . . ." John took another deep breath. He readied himself for Randy's reaction. "I'm not human."

Randy opened his mouth to say something, but nothing would come out. He didn't understand what John was saying at all. He shook his head again, his eyes swimming with confusion.

John sighed. "I'm a vampire, Randy. That blood . . . I drink that. I need it to live. That's my food source."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Randy shook his head again. His patience was slowly starting to fade. "Can you stop acting stupid and tell me what the hell is going on?"

"I am telling you. Randy, I can't keep this hidden anymore. I need you to know the truth. I care about you too much to keep you in the dark about who I truly am."

"You do realize vampires don't exist, right? It's just fantasy, something someone made up and wrote about. You know that, right?"

"I assure you, they are very much real."

John took a step forward. Randy immediately took a step back keeping the distance they had in between them. John tried not to look into it too much. It felt like a stab in the chest. He could see the fear and confusion in his eyes. He could hear how rapid his heart was beating. He could almost feel the blood as it coursed through Randy's veins. He tried not to let that get to him, as well. With Randy, John was so much more careful. He wasn't going to risk hurting the only thing that made him feel normal, the only thing that made his life worth meaning.

"You're scared." John stated.

"You're delusional." Randy shot back.

"I'm only telling you the truth."

John took another step closer. Ignoring Randy's immediate step back, John continued until he had Randy backed against the wall. A part of him wished he didn't get that close, especially with the way Randy's heart was pounding against his chest. Randy had always smelt intoxicating to him. It was something he grew to dealing with. In the beginning, it was so hard to get close, because every time he did, he could imagine himself biting and drinking the red, silky blood. Over time, though, John got use to the heavenly scent.

"I'm not going to hurt you, Randy." John said. His voice was low.

"Forgive me if I don't believe that at the moment. You've just told me you are a vampire. Clearly there is something wrong with your sanity level." Randy shot back.

"I'm not crazy and I'm not lying to you . . . not anymore, really." John said. "I can give you the proof if you want it."

"What can you possibly prove? You're not a vampire. Vampires are not real."

"There is so much I can show you."

"Show me the fangs, Count Dracula." Randy said, sarcastically, pushing John away from him, putting more distance between them.

"I don't think that's a good idea . . ." John said, taking a step back.

"Why not, will it be too tempting for you?" Randy's voice was cocky sounding. He thought he had John maimed. He pushed himself off the wall and started closer to John. "Come on, John. If you really are a vampire, show me the fangs."

"No, I'm not going to do that, Randy." John shook his head. "It's like I'm two people. I'm a vampire regardless, but it's like I'm something else when I give into the temptation. It's like I'm giving into my inner demon. Something takes over."

"You want me to believe that you're a vampire. The only way that's going to happen is if you show me. Now do it."

John sighed and looked down. He closed his eyes and let all the possible backfires go through his head. Giving into his inner demon was something John tried to avoid at all costs. He hadn't hunted in years. He had his sources at hospitals. They took care of him, giving him packs of blood to last for a couple weeks. If he did what Randy wanted, if he let that demon out, even for a minute, he could lose control. He could lose the one thing he truly cared about.

"Fine . . . I'll show you."

Randy didn't say anything. He just waited for John to give in, to stop the joke he was playing. John was a funny guy. He goofed and played around a lot backstage and when they were together. That was one of the many things that attracted him to John. This, though . . . this was going a bit far. Dragging him all the way into the middle of God knows where to 'tell' him he was a vampire, it was over the top.

"If I'm going to do this then I need you over there. I want to put as much distance between us as possible."

"How am I going to see if I'm on the other side of the room?"

"I'll smile. You'll be able to see the difference. Now go."

"I'm not moving, John. Just show me." Randy said, crossing his arms.

"Randy, I'm dead serious right now. Get your ass over there." John said. His voice was very firm.

Randy glared at John. His patience was getting thinner and thinner. Shaking his head, Randy turned around and made his way over to the corner.

"Are you happy now?"

"No, but if this is going to make you believe then it's what I have to do." John sighed.

"Then do it already."

John closed his eyes and mentally prepared himself for the fight. He was going to do everything in his power to make sure he stayed in complete control. He wasn't going to be taken over.

He could feel the two long teeth extract from their hiding places. Almost immediately, John could feel his mouth watering as he caught a sharper scent of Randy. His ears could hear the beating of his heart, the blood coursing through his veins. He could feel the vibrations of his shaky breath. He had to hand it to Randy. The man sounded braver than he felt.

Opening his eyes, he looked up at Randy. His predator instincts were shining through. He could see how stiff and tense Randy was. He could see how close Randy was to bolting out the door, fleeing the cabin and from John.

"Are you sure this is what you want?"

Randy didn't say anything at first. It was getting harder and harder to pretend he wasn't afraid. The way John was acting was scaring the hell out of him. Just from watching, a small part of him actually did believe everything John was saying.

". . . Yes . . ."

John nodded his head. This was what he wanted, too. He wanted to be honest with Randy. He didn't want to have any secrets. He wanted a clean, honest, open relationship. Hiding what was really and truly him was something John wasn't going to be able to live with. Randy would be the first and only person he would tell. Deep down he knew Randy was the only one for him. With that respect, he had to be honest and open.

Meeting Randy's gaze, John opened his mouth, revealing the sharp, pointy teeth. He watched as Randy's eyes filled with even more fear and confusion. He rooted his feet in place, fighting and refusing to run over as Randy's heart started pounding harder and harder. His breath was coming out in small, quick gasps. His mouth dropped as he started taking steps back. He didn't stop till his back hit the wall.

"No . . . you're . . . no, that's not right . . ."

Sentences were suddenly impossible for Randy. He couldn't take his eyes off John. His hand came up, covering his mouth. He shook his head, trying to give some type of reason for what he was seeing. Nothing could explain it, though.

That wasn't the only thing that scared Randy. It was the eyes. The look in John's eyes was something different entirely. There was something animalistic and vicious about them. They shined dangerously.

"This is what you wanted, Randy." John said in a low voice. He slowly started to make his way over to Randy, fighting every thought that threatened him.

"Stop . . . John, stop . . ." Randy begged quietly. He put his hands up, trying to stop John short of him. John could clearly see how much they were shaking.

"I'm not going to hurt you." John said.

A big part of him believed that, too. The other part . . . well, the other part was just waiting for Randy to do something. That inner demon was waiting for Randy to take off running. He enjoyed the chase. The loud pounding of the heart led him right to his next victim. John's inner demon had been pushed aside and discarded for so long. It was ready for the fresh blood, the blood that was being produced by the human heart. He could smell it and it was intoxicating. His mouth began to water all the more. Temptation was hard to resist.

John reached over and gently took Randy's hand in his. He kept his eyes on Randy. He could see the fear and he hated that he was the cause of it. Randy needed to know, though. It was the right thing to do. He deserved that much.

Guiding Randy's hand up, John slowly made it up his face, taking it over to his mouth. With even more caution, John took Randy's hand over his lips. Taking a deep breath, John guided Randy's hand over until it got to one of the sharp fangs. Randy's heart was beating a thousand times a minute. John tried not to concentrate on that, though. He kept his eyes locked on Randy's. He looked deep into those stormy blue eyes and tried to get lost in them again, just like he always had, and that . . . that was when he messed up.

He wasn't paying enough attention to what he was doing. All he remembered was Randy suddenly having an intake of breath. Randy's finger had been cut.

Everything suddenly seemed to be happening at once. Randy jerked his hand away from John and took off out the cabin. The blood dropped onto John's tongue. He closed his eyes and took in the different tastes that made up Randy. It was more than John had ever thought imaginable. His eyes turned a darker shade of blue. The demon was in control.

John turned around and was out of the cabin faster than he thought possible. Randy's blood was imprinted into his mind for good now. That taste . . . it was something he had never had before. Of course, all blood tastes different. No person was the same. Only Randy . . . there was just something about his blood that was more unique above all the others. He had to have more.

Randy had no idea where he was going. All he knew was that he had to get out of there fast. What had happened was something that Randy couldn't explain. He didn't want to. Thinking was something that Randy didn't think he could do right now. Survival instincts were kicking in. Run. That was what he had to do now. It was something he was doing a fine job at. Pushing and slapping branches, spider webs, whatever that was in his way, he moved. He stopped for nothing. His shirt was getting torn, but he didn't care. The adrenaline was the only thing that was keeping him going. If it wasn't for that, Randy was sure he'd be a goner.

The wind was getting harder and harder. The sky seemed darker than it was just minutes before. Suddenly the sky lit up. A big clap of thunder scared Randy to death. He lost his footing and came crashing to the earth. That didn't stop Randy, though. He immediately jumped back to his feet and continued on. A big gust of wind came up on his left side. Before he knew it, he ran right into a hard frame.

The force knocked Randy to the ground. It stunned him for a minute, but it was quickly over when his senses started coming back. Looking up, Randy's heart began to pound harder and harder in his chest. Standing before him was John. The look on his face was blank, but his eyes were telling an entirely different story. In those blue eyes was hunger . . . desire.

"John . . . no . . ." Randy choked out. He slowly started to back up. He didn't care about his hands getting scraped and scratched. The need for escape was stronger.

"Don't move, Randy."

That simple command went right through Randy, paralyzing his entire body. Randy couldn't move a muscle. The only thing that could be heard was the wind as it howled through the trees, the clapping of the thunder, the pounding of Randy's heart, and the shakiness of his breath.

John closed his eyes and tried to get back into control. The need to taste Randy's blood was overwhelming. All he could think about was reaching over, tilting Randy's neck to the side, and biting down, relishing in the taste of the silky ribbons of blood. He couldn't do that, though. He had to fight it. He had fallen in love with the man, not the blood. He couldn't allow that demon to take over and hurt the only thing that made his life make sense.

"You're bleeding." It was a statement. Randy didn't seem to notice, but John was well aware.

Randy didn't say anything. He was trying to keep as still as possible. His usual arrogance was long gone now. All it took was one fast move, one quick movement, and it could all be over. Not taking his eyes off John, Randy ever so slowly got to his feet. He backed up until he hit a tree.

"You aren't helping this. Stop moving." John said. His voice was a bit more forceful.

Randy closed his eyes and took a deep breath. His hands went behind him and held on tight to the bark of the tree he was leaning against. His head was spinning, he couldn't catch his breath. The entire night seemed like a horribly, graphic nightmare. He prayed that he'd wake up, that everything would be like it was.

When he opened his eyes, though, everything remained the same. John was still staring at Randy. The hunger in his eyes seemed to grow with every second. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Randy looked to the side, hoping to see some path, some way out of the hole he dug himself in.

"Do you really think you can get two feet without me getting to you?"

Randy immediately closed his eyes again and tried not to lose it right there. Dying was something Randy had never thought of or planned for. He was too young . . . and arrogant. He wasn't invincible like he thought, this being a definite example. Fantasies of everything he wanted to do, where he wanted to go, who he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, it all flashed before him. The one thing, however, that remained the same, through all of this, was John. As bizarre as that sounded, he hadn't changed. Every dream, every fantasy . . . John was in it. He was the one thing that didn't change.

Opening his eyes, Randy gasped. John was so close. He ran his tongue across his teeth. His fangs were sharper, so much sharper than they were earlier. His eyes, twinkling in the darkness, were staring tentatively at Randy's wet neck. The rain was still pouring down. Randy and John were completely soaked, but only Randy seemed to be aware of the coldness. John didn't seem to mind, not that he really noticed, anyway. He stared hungrily at the pulse that was beating rapidly in Randy's neck.

Reaching up, John slowly trailed his fingers down Randy's neck, following the droplets. His neck was smooth and perfect, just the way John liked his victims. The demon was forcing its way through, trying to tear down John's defenses, trying to take control again. With every second, they were getting weaker and weaker.

"John . . ." Randy said. His voice was barely audible.

"Don't, Randy . . . don't move . . ." John warned, trying to regain all control.

Randy closed his eyes again and tried to remain guarded. John's gentle fingers were making it hard, though. He wanted to melt in the touch.

Those thoughts were completely stopped when John suddenly grabbed Randy's arm and started pulling him through the trees. His pace was fast. It was hard for Randy to keep up. He stumbled, fell, slipped, but no matter how many times that happened, John refused to stop. If anything, he didn't even seem to notice. His eyes remained forward, his grip unwavering.

By the time they got to the cabin, Randy was even more soaked and dirty than he was before. John took him over to the fireplace and pushed him down. The second John let him go, Randy scurried back until he hit the wall. He had no idea where John's head was at.

John didn't seem to notice. He kneeled down beside the fireplace and grabbed the match. After the fire was set, John took a shaky breath and stood up. He stood there a minute, his eyes closed. The only thing that could be heard was the crackling of the fire and the quick breaths from Randy.

"Get by the fire."

Randy didn't move. He kept his eyes on John as he walked over into the kitchen area. He bent down and opened one of the bottom cabinets. Randy didn't know what John was doing, but he heard shuffling and things being moved around.

"Randy, get by the fire. You'll get sick." John's voice was a bit impatient sounded. He tried to keep in control, but battling the inner demon and a terrified lover was hard.

Randy slowly scooted over to the fire. He made sure to keep his eyes on John. He needed to be ready for anything and everything. Immediate warmth hit him, taking away the chills he was having. Leaning forward, Randy tore his gaze away from John and looked into the flames. He rubbed his hands together and put them over the fire, needing more of the heat.

Getting lost in the moment, Randy jumped when John sat down beside him. He started moving back, but when John reached over and grabbed his wrist, he knew he wasn't going anywhere. John pulled him closer, trying to ignore the dry blood long enough to inspect the damage that was inflicted when he ran off into the woods.

"This one looks bad." John said in a low voice. He trailed his fingers down the cut, stopping when he heard Randy hiss in pain and tried to pull his hand free. John didn't let him, though. "I'm going to clean it."

"John, please . . ." Randy started to beg, but was stopped by John.

"I'm not going to hurt you. I'm going to get you cleaned up."

"Is . . . is that all you're going to do?"

John didn't say anything at first. He couldn't find a truthful answer to that question. Was that all he wanted to do? No, he didn't want to stop. He wanted to wrap his arms around Randy, like a snake would its prey, and drink every last drop that was in Randy's body. Of course that was the demon talking. The real John wanted to hold Randy and not be tempted whenever he got close to his neck. He wanted to hold his hand and not concentrate on the steady pulse. He wanted to be able to wrestle with him and not think about his heart, or what it would feel like to have that heart slow down until he wasn't beating any longer.

He hated himself for feeling those things. Randy was everything to him. He was able to put a smile on his face, even when he felt was no hope. Randy was able to make him laugh when all he wanted to do was cry. Randy made him come back even when he wanted to run. He had been lying to himself for a long time. The truth was Randy was the only thing, the only reason, why he hadn't given into the demon. It was because of Randy that made everything have a purpose, a meaning.

"I don't want to hurt you, Randy. As hard as that is to believe, hurting you is the last thing I want to do." John sighed.

Randy didn't say anything this time. He just watched as John carefully and gently started cleaning and bandaging up Randy's hand. He saw the pained look in his eyes and it killed him. No matter what had just transpired there was a part, a big part, of him that just wanted to pull John into his arms, hold him tight, and assure him that everything was going to be okay. But would that be as easy as it sounded? That was something Randy didn't know.

"There is a path behind the cabin. When the rain stops, follow that path until you get to town. The hotel is right down the road." John said, keeping his eyes on the cuts and scrapes.

"What?" Randy looked up at John.

"You are free to live. I'm not going to keep you here."

"But . . ." Randy couldn't say anything else. The words were on his tongue, but nothing would come out. He just stared at John.

John didn't say anything. He wouldn't get his hopes up. When he was sure Randy was taken care of, he got up and put the medicine and bandages away. Opening the fridge, John pulled out a blood pack and ripped the top open. He closed his eyes and took a drink, loving the way the blood made its way down his throat.

"John . . ."

His voice was low. John bit his lip, trying not to lose it. The love he had for Randy was something he only thought happened in faery tales. His faery tale had turned into a nightmare, though. His faery tale wouldn't have a happy ending.

"Yes, Randy?"

"How . . . what happened? Why are you this?"

John sighed and looked over at Randy. He looked curious, concerned, and scared all at the same time. Realizing his time with Randy was almost up John put the pack down and walked closer to Randy. He sat down on the couch.

"I got lost. I turned down the wrong street and was just walking around, trying to find someone or a sign that could help me get back on track. The farther I walked, the more lost I became." John sighed again. "I turned around to head back, but I didn't get far. Ahead of me, there was this man . . . or at the time, I thought it was a man. He looked crazy . . . so completely crazy. His eyes were dark and glossy. He had long, tangled, messy hair. His hands were dirty and stained."

John got up and started pacing slowly. He had a faraway look in his eyes as he recollected on the nightmare that changed everything.

"I couldn't react. I didn't know it was happening until . . ." John closed his eyes. "It felt like nothing I'd ever experienced before. It hurt. His fangs were biting deeper and deeper into my neck. I could feel the blood running down. I felt my own strength give out. All I could feel was that overwhelming sense to break free somehow, to run. It changed, though. The pain was gone and the sudden craving was all I could think about. I don't know what happened after that. I remember waking up in an alleyway. My face was stained red. I had blood underneath my fingertips." John shook his head and took a deep breath.

Randy stood up and slowly made his way to John's side. He hesitated for only a minute before reaching over and taking John's hand. John looked down and stared at their hands. They fit perfectly together. He would miss the feel of them.

"How can you even touch me after what I almost did to you?" John whispered.

"I'm not going to lie to you. I'm scared. I'm so damn scared; I don't know how to act or what to do. All I do know is that I can't forget about you or leave. It sounds crazy, after everything that's happened, but I know that I can't live without you."

John didn't say anything. He looked down and tried to keep the fear and sadness to himself. Even if they were able to stay together, in the end, Randy would be the one to die. John would have to live eternity without him.

"I can't live without you, either. You're the only thing that's been keeping me going for as long as I have."

"What do we do?" Randy asked, taking a step closer to John, but at the same time, keeping some distance. The last thing he wanted to do was push John away.

"I don't know."


End file.
